


Siren of the Sea (Part II)

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Siren of the Sea [2]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirates, Biting, Breeding, Claws, Claws in the Bedroom, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Discipline, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, I have it out for Konoe, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Piercings, Pirates, Porn With Plot, Public Humiliation, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Spanking, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence, Whipping, because Rai has a fucking eyepatch, because pirates, belt spanking, forced mating, it seemed like a good idea at the time, non-consensual nudity, non-consensual whipping, public spanking, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: In this AU, Konoe finds himself abducted by a pirate slaving ship, captained by the terrifying Captain Rai. His ability to sing is inadvertently discovered when trying to help a sick young fellow kitten Ciel, who hasn’t dealt with the capture well. His comforting Siren’s melody was heard throughout the ship and catches the captain’s eye. Will he be able to hold his own, against this fearsome seafaring devil?Chapter 1 continues with Konoe out at sea, about to make landfall on Midorijima, still in Captain Rai's care. He hasn't been allowed outside of the captain's quarters and is in his fifth day of heat, confused with the variety of Siren's gifts that have been emerging. He's trying to get himself under control but finds himself overwhelmed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Murderous Joy - Captain Rai](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/391781) by foxyladycpz. 



Several days and nights pass in the same way. Since I don’t have access to the outdoors, I lose track of time and only can guess based on Rai’s visits, which become more and more frequent. He keeps plenty of food stocked—more than I can consume—in fact, more than I’ve ever had access to even in Karou. To each meal, he adds kuims, my favorite, in some form, as well as the catnip wine or potion from Bardo.

On several occasions, when I wake, the tub of hot water has magically appeared in the chamber, and I have no idea how it arrived. I make it a goal to find out if Rai brings it in himself, or if he trusts another cat to do it. I think he is slightly paranoid about who spends time with me. He may be _slightly_ overprotective.

Of course, he _may_ have reason to be. Even after these frequent visits—having intercourse each and _every_ time—I find my desire for him is only increasing. I cannot even get my _thoughts_ under control, much less my body. When he isn’t with me, I find myself fantasizing about our last encounter, or about him: his silky white hair and how it brushes over my body, the feeling of his soft fluffy ears in my mouth, the feel of his smooth, hot skin against mine—even when he’s rough with me, pinning me to the bed, biting me, pulling my tail, or otherwise restraining me.

I think we've tried everything at this point, and nothing seems to quench my desire. (Granted, I lack experience.) It’s gotten so bad that I nearly _attack_ him when he walks into the room, not even giving him a chance to lock the door behind him. At one point, he even had to keep me handcuffed to the bed, restrained against the headboard, while he left the chamber. He threatened to keep me there if I couldn’t control myself.

It’s _unimaginable_ for me to be in a constant state of arousal—but when I smell Rai walking down the hallway, it does something inexplicable to my body and my mind. I'm able to cope when I’m alone in the chamber. It isn’t as though I feel like I need to constantly pleasure myself. In fact, I haven’t tried that yet, despite Rai’s suggestions. My desire works differently: I yearn for the connection _to him_.

These feelings are terribly overwhelming. I hardly know what to expect, and I wish I could say that I’ve simply accepted them. But I haven’t. I don’t like feeling so desperate. I don’t like feeling like a slave to my emotions like this. Also, I hate the weariness I see in Rai’s face. I am afraid I am exhausting him or worrying him.

But mostly, it’s simply _embarrassing_. I’m afraid to go above deck or show my face around other cats especially if I’m in Rai’s presence at the same time. I might be able to behave myself if he fucked me ( _really hard_ ) first, I suppose. Gods, how embarrassing to even think that—I _can’t believe_ this is even an issue. I never imagined I’d be like this! This _can’t_ be normal for any cat in heat, Siren or not.

I don’t know who I am anymore.  
  
If this is what a Siren is, I don’t want it. I hate this! I feel like a burden.

Today, I am lying awake in bed, fighting sleep. I am exhausted. Rai just left the chamber a few minutes ago, thinking me asleep. I had my eyes closed, my breath slowed, and he just finished grooming me. He grooms me a _lot_ —spreading his scent over my ears and my face—so I can smell him even when he is gone. I love it when he grooms me—I love the _feel_ of it—it’s hypnotic, sensual, and it makes me drowsy and feels so good. I sleep so well afterward.

It occurs to me that _his grooming_ may be one of the reasons my emotions are so out of control. I wonder if I should resist his grooming me. Our routine goes like this: He enters the cabin. I attack him, and he makes a feeble attempt to fight me off so he can eat. While I undress him, he makes sure I’ve eaten, feeding me a variety of foods, making sure I’ve had some catnip. Next, he fucks me. He hardly has to warm me up anymore—I’m always ready. He’s _rarely_ gentle, but always makes sure the experience is pleasurable—and it _always_ is. And mystifyingly, each time feels even _more_ pleasurable than the last. It’s amazing. By the time we finish, I am exhausted. He gives me more catnip, drags me back to bed, and grooms me. Sometimes from head to toe—which often leads to a second round, if he’s not careful. But in every case, he makes sure to groom my ears, my face, and my tail. He grooms me till I fall asleep, and by the time I wake, he is gone.

I always feel refreshed when I wake, feeling few symptoms of heat, and only a little sore—usually my muscles are the only parts of me that ache, which is another thing I find odd. This whole thing is so new, and we are going at it like, well, rabbits. Shouldn’t I be at least a _little_ sore in those parts I haven’t used so rabidly before? Maybe it's another of the Siren’s gifts, I suppose. I’ll find fresh food or the bath in his place, and I’ve never been able to tell if he’s the one who brings them in, or if he merely _causes_ them to be brought.

Today’s session was more intense than usual, but I only pretended to fall asleep in his arms. I haven’t seen the bath for a while, and so I think today is the day. I want to see who actually brings it in. I watch him rise, careful not to wake me.

It is awfully sweet to watch him get out of bed. Apparently, he touches me freely, and gently, when he thinks I’m sleeping, running his hands over my body and paying particular attention to my waist and hips. It’s a different kind of touch than when he takes me. It feels more intimate, somehow. He tucks me soundly under the blankets as well, which are still covered in his scent. We haven’t changed the sheets since I’ve gone into heat. This is probably my fifth day, according to my count, and they are getting a little ripe.

His scent is wonderful. It’s soothing, warm, cozy, and strong. I mean, powerful, rather than overpowering. I wonder if he can still smell me. It seems he can because while he thinks I’m sleeping, he lowers his face into my hair and takes a few deep breaths. I feel him touch my ear piercing, and then my collar, and I hear some clinking noises as well, which sound slightly unfamiliar, so I don’t understand what could be making that sound. I make sure not to move since that would give away the fact that I am awake.

He doesn’t talk to himself. I do sometimes when I’m alone in here.

I keep my eyes closed, and it’s really hard to keep my ears still, especially with him stroking me like this from time to time. But I simply relax in the blankets, covered in his scent, resisting sleep. From the sound, I can hear him pulling on his clothes, the buckles and belts clinking softly. And I hear the familiar clanking of his swords, which haven’t received much care over the past few days. I’ve only seen him care for them once.

Once I hear the door close and lock, I stay where I am for a moment, and then I turn over in the bed so I can peek out from underneath the covers, only my ears poking out slightly without being noticed. If you walked in the chamber, you wouldn’t be able to see that I am awake.

My heart starts pounding loudly and quickly, as though I’m doing something I shouldn't. I’m not. I only wish to see how the food is brought in, and who takes care of the bath. Is there anything wrong with that? Of course not. That’s ridiculous. I try to calm myself. I do feel bad for tricking Rai into thinking I was asleep. But I shouldn’t. He’s the one keeping me locked in here.   
  
At least I’m not restrained today, I think. And then I remember Rai touched my collar earlier, the clanking sounds it made. I put my hand on my neck, and I’m surprised to find a chain attached that was _definitely_ not here before. _What the hell?_ Did he restrain me after all? While I was _sleeping_? _Why?_ What the hell?! What did I do to deserve being restrained?

Trying not to move too much, just in case someone else comes in, I run my hand along the chain to find out where it’s connected. It’s light-weight, with lots of slack, enough so I could turn over in bed and not even notice it. But sure enough, it’s attached to the headboard. It wouldn’t reach if I tried to get out of bed.

I feel rage start to boil in my chest, but I tuck my arms back under the covers and keep watching the door, tilting my ears in that direction as well. I try to relax and get my breathing back to the slow, sleepy rhythm I had before, but I’m angry and confused. And maybe, I’m a little hurt. _Did I displease him?_ I remember biting his ear today, but it was accidental. I didn’t mean to—it was in a moment of passion, and he distracted me while his ear was in my mouth. And he retaliated with a bite to my inner thigh at the time. So I don’t think that’s what it was. I search my memory for answers.

I do know that I don’t like being treated like a _possession_.

Suddenly, I detect footsteps approaching in the hallway, two sets, I believe, neither of which is Rai. I can tell by both the sound and the scent. I don’t recognize either. When the door unlocks, I am suddenly alarmed. I feel helpless, _defenseless_ , in my current state. I realize it’s a _good_ thing to be asleep while my food is being refilled. _Why was I so curious?_ I am really regretting my decision to stay awake! What is the old Two Cane saying, “Curiosity killed the cat”?

There’s nothing to do now but pretend to sleep, so I keep my breathing as even as possible, and I peek toward the door. The first to enter is… a large basin. It’s the bath. And carrying it is Bardo. _Of course._ My fear slowly starts to diminish. He sets the tub on the floor, and I hear the water sloshing around inside. I didn’t realize he carried it already partly filled. He must be _more_ than a cook and medic if he can carry that kind of weight.

Behind him, stands Ciel, still dressed in chef’s whites. He looks even better than the last time I saw him. He stands tall—almost as tall as me—his face rosy and full of color. His eyes are sparkling, in fact, and he follows Bardo eagerly, carrying two full buckets of scented, steaming water, which he sets on the floor, not making a sound.

Bardo gives Ciel a hand signal, and he leaves immediately. Meanwhile, Bardo picks up one of the buckets of water, and after glancing in my direction, probably confirming that I’m indeed asleep, adds it to the tub. He puts the bucket directly into the tub first, so it makes very little sound when he pours the water. He repeats the process for the second bucket.

By the time he’s finished, Ciel has cheerfully returned with two additional buckets and trots off again, empty buckets in hand. Bardo adds the remaining buckets to the tub, and I smell the fragrant water. The catnip scent tingles my nostrils, making me even more relaxed and perhaps slightly intoxicated. I briefly wonder why it works so fast, even after all this time. Shouldn't the effect wear off?

Ciel returns a third time, this time carrying a tray filled with a variety of food, including freshly baked rolls, chicken, cheese, and several large dried kuims. Bardo takes a small flask out of his apron pocket and arranges it neatly on the tray next to the food along with two glasses. He takes out a larger bottle as well. I’ve seen Rai drink from this as well—I think it’s the alcohol he enjoys. I’m not sure if it’s a wine or port, or possibly brandy. They also go through the room and straighten up a few items that were knocked over during my last session with Rai.

Bardo gives Ciel a thumbs up, walks up to him and tilts up his chin. To my utter shock and surprise, he gives him a kiss, full on the mouth, and Ciel responds with longing on obvious display in his body, his tail fluffing out and whipping back and forth, holding onto Bardo’s forearms tightly.

I’m so surprised at their interaction that I can’t hold back a tiny sound of shock. Bardo turns to the bed, interrupting their kiss. I freeze for a moment, remembering I’m supposed to be sleeping.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I give a little sleepy-sounding sigh, as though I were in a dream. I'm still under the blanket.

“He must be dreaming,” Bardon whispers. “I wonder if he can tell when others around him are in the mood. Wouldn’t that be something? I bet it puts him in the mood even _more_! Did you see that bounce in Rai’s footsteps lately? It’s all due to this little guy. He's a _terrific_ addition to the crew.”

He turns back to look at Ciel. “Of course, you may be a little _too_ distracted at the moment to notice _anything_ around you, I suppose.” His tone is soft, gentle, and teasing.

“Bardo!” Ciel hisses. “You _know_ I don’t feel comfortable joking about this kind of thing! And I can’t _believe_ you just kissed me in here! How inappropriate! Have you no _restraint_? You should be setting a better example as my elder.” He sounds like he may be teasing as well.

“I couldn’t help it,” Bardo continues. “Aren’t you always in the mood after visiting this room? I mean, the scent alone… gods, I don’t know what it is, but it’s just so… _inviting_! I can’t think about anything else, even when I just walk down the hallway.”

“Is _that_ what it is? Have you been walking down this hallway _all afternoon_? What are we going to _do_ with you?” Again, to my utter shock and surprise, I see Ciel's small hand reach out to Bardo’s beard, stroking him with such tenderness that it hurts my heart. “But we won’t be doing anything in here. The captain wold have your head! Come, we’ve a little time before dinner…”

“Ah—I’ve trained you well,” comments Bardo.  
  
“Bardo!” hisses Ciel once more. They each pick up a bucket, the waste pail, and any remaining dishes lying around the room.

I have to learn to control myself, I think, or I’m never going to get out of here, I think. I sink under the covers just a little deeper.

Before they leave, I hear Bardo speak softly one more time. “Just one second,” he says. “One more thing. I nearly forgot. Keep quiet.” He approaches the bed, and my heart starts pounding. Did he notice I am awake?

I hear a slight clicking sound from the wall above my ears, and then, to my horror, Bardo very slowly lifts the blanket from my head. I keep my eyes closed, and my face still, hoping he can’t hear my heart pounding. I’m _desperate_ to keep my ears from twitching.

I hear another clicking sound, right at my neck. _Did he just remove the chain?_ And then clanking noises, which, sure enough, sound like the chain. _He took off the chain!_  Then, he replaces the blanket as gently as he lifted it.

I give another quiet sigh, this time in relief.

“OK, all done,” Bardo says. Whispering, yet still loud enough for me to hear, Bardo says, “Rai has to keep him restrained not only for his own safety but also for _ours_. He told me he’s _still_ in heat, even five days in.”

An astonished noise comes from Ciel. “What? _Five days?_ How can that be?”

“Yeah, I know,” Bardo says. “It must be a Siren thing. Rai is grooming him, and seeing to his needs at least _twice_ per day, every time he shows interest. Hence that extra bounce in the captain’s step.” I hear a small chuckle. “I’ve _never_ seen Rai like this. I like it. He’s needed something like this in life for a long time.” 

I hear both sets of footsteps leave the room, locking the door behind them.

As soon as the door locks, I let out a sigh of relief, and I put my hand to my collar, thinking of Bardo’s words. What did he mean, _their safety_? I would never think of _hurting_ anyone. Myself or them.

I exhale again before sitting up and then wander over to the food. The rolls smell delicious. They are still warm, so I break one in half and add cheese and a small piece of chicken to it. I can’t help myself. I’m ravenous. I’ve been working up an appetite in here, even without much physical exercise. Maybe what we’ve been doing actually counts as exercise. Oh, look—and a kuim! I can’t resist!

“Who knows?” I say aloud. At least I know where the bath water comes from, and it isn’t a magical appearance. I think about the kiss I witnessed between Ciel and Bardo, and how happy they both looked. I’m quite pleased, and I can’t help smiling myself. I pop the rest of the bread into my mouth and step into the hot bath.

I find my thoughts drifting towards my own interaction with the tall, slender silver cat who has become a constant in my mind lately. I close my eyes for a moment, relaxing into the water, bringing his image to the forefront of my mind: silver hair, fluffy tail, the pale blue eye, the upwards curve of his lips that he shows so seldom. I hear myself sigh again, this time in longing.

Ever so slowly, my hand, seemingly on its own accord, flattens itself against my stomach, slides downward, below the surface of the water toward my hips.

_Who am I, anyway? What am I becoming? When did I become like this?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe tries to convince Rai to let him out among the crew, and Rai agrees, with certain conditions. This is in preparation and practice for their next stop.

The next time the door opens, I’m roused from sleep by a familiar, warm scent. It’s the captain. My body heats up at once, but I try my hardest to control myself. I’m under the blankets in bed, and I make an effort to stay still, right where I am, without moving an inch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I _do_ move. I turn my body to face the door, so I can watch him enter. He looks surprised that he can come in without being immediately assaulted. I feel blood pooling in my lower half, but I ignore it as best I can, pretending I’m restrained on the bed.

I blink slowly, feeling a smile on my face.

“Rai.” My voice comes out husky and breathless, not at _all_ as I intend. It catches his attention immediately, and he looks in my direction, approaching the bed in several long strides.

“Are you ill?” Concern fills his voice.

“Not at all,” I reply, keeping my same breathless tone. I _mean_ to sound controlled and normal. But these days, my "normal" is something _very_ different than what it’s been in the past.

“Why are you lying down? Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” I assert. “I’m simply trying to control myself today.”

“Are you?” Rai’s voice seems to falter slightly as we are talking, and his hand appears on my ears, testing my temperature. His hand feels so cool, so _soothing_ , against my head. I’ve missed him.

“I’ve missed you,” my thoughts tumble out of my mouth, quite unexpectedly, too late for me to stop them.

“I’ve only been gone for a few hours.” Rai’s eye narrows suspiciously. “What are you _really_ planning?”

“Nothing!” I insist. “I am just tired of being cooped up in here, all alone, day after day. I’m lonely. I miss you. I miss the moon of light. I think I need to be around other cats. I don’t know what to do to make you believe I am trustworthy.”

“What’s this about, suddenly?” Rai removes his hand from my ears, making me feel distant. He leans back and examines my face. I sit up and face him squarely.

“I was awake the last time Bardo and Ciel brought in the water for the bath. I saw that you restrain me— _you actually chain me to the bed_ —when others enter the room. I heard Bardo say it was for _their_ safety.” I put both my hands on Rai’s face. “ _You chain me to the bed_. Why? Do you think I will attack them? Do you think I desire anyone besides you?”

Rai is silent, and his eye refuses to meet my gaze.

“No!” I insist. “Look at me. _Please_.” My voice is filled with desire, with longing, with yearning. But I’m controlling it for the sake of this conversation. “I need you to _hear_ me.”

He finally returns my gaze and puts his hands on mine, which still rest on his face.

“Speak then.”

“I do _not_ desire any other cat except _you_. With my heart, my body, I think of _only_ you. I don’t understand why, but it’s only _you_. When you’re here and when you aren’t. My mind is simply _filled_ with you. I can’t get you out of my head. It isn’t that my _sex drive_ is out of control. It’s my desire for a _connection_ with you that is out of control.”

He is quiet for a moment. Then quietly, he says, “I see.”

I don’t think he believes me, and I feel frustrated. “I want you to trust me. What do I have to do?”

“Konoe,” Rai’s voice verges on desperation. “I believe that _you_ believe what you are saying. And I know your body _needs_ to see the light of day soon. It’s best for you. But this heat is like _nothing_ I’ve ever witnessed, nothing _anyone_ on board as ever heard of. It’s lasted almost  _six_ days so far, and you show no sign of cooling off. I'm worried about you.”

“But what if it’s because you’re keeping me cooped up in here, isolated? What if your grooming, and the catnip, and being exposed to only your scent, is making my symptoms _worse_?” I’ve had these suspicions for some time. I wonder if perhaps getting fresh air and light might help.

“Frankly, I’ve wondered the same thing. However...” Rai’s voice trails off, and he looks away.

“However?” I prompt him to continue.

“However, I find myself _unable_ to leave without grooming you first. I’ve tried, several times, and I’ve _had_ to come back to do it. I just _can’t_ do it.”

I’m shocked to hear this. “What do you mean?”

“There is a point at which I am drawn back to you, first of all. I can’t be apart from you for more than a certain period of time, and that time is getting shorter. When I try, I start feeling symptoms of heat myself. The moment I’m in your presence, the symptoms resolve.”

Again, I’m surprised to hear this.

“It may be your scent that has this effect on me. And when I’m in your presence, I think even if you weren’t aggressive, I’d find myself making up the difference, so to speak.”

What is he talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“Right now, because you didn’t attack me at the door, I am finding myself in _dire_ circumstances.”

I look at him questioningly. I don’t really understand what he means. He looks right at me.

“Jeez, you’re such an _innocent_  when it comes to things like this!” Rai exclaims in exasperation. He grabs my hand and holds it directly against his dick, which is rock-hard underneath his pants. A noise of shock leaks out of my mouth, but it comes out sounding more like a mewling purr, and I feel all melty inside. _I want him_. _Again, I want him._

“But isn’t this only because of what you’ve become _used_ to?” I ask. “Wouldn’t it be the same in a relationship with any other cat?”

“Konoe.” Rai holds my chin with his hand, looking at me quite seriously. “Of course there’s a honeymoon period in any new relationship. But this—this is very different. I usually have excellent control over myself, over my emotions, over my body. Now, I’ve lost it completely.”

Somehow, his statement makes me feel relieved. I’m not the only one. _I’m not alone._

“I feel the same,” I agree.

“But haven’t you always been a little more sensitive?”

“Sensitive how?” I ask. Again, I don’t understand what he means.

“That kitten who helped me when I was wounded, many years ago, you understood my pain without having experienced it yourself. It was quite something. You didn’t shy away from empathizing with me, even then, as a tiny thing.”

I consider his words, and they may have some truth to them, but I don’t understand how they fit here.

“That may be the case,” I say. “I don’t really remember—although, it seems a part of me remembers meeting you back then. There was something special about you—to me—back then. Something that _drew me_ to you. I think I really _have_ been waiting for you. Perhaps that’s why I allowed myself to be caught so easily.”

I allow him to draw me into his arms as I say these words.

“But Rai, I don’t wish to be your _possession_. I want to be a partner. I don’t want you to lock me away in this room for the rest of my life. I want to be your equal.”

His face is troubled, and that concerns me. He opens his mouth.

“We are approaching a supply stop. It’s a rather large port city called Midorijima. I don’t want to leave you on board for the entire stay. In fact,” Rai looks at me as he’s speaking, “I don’t think I’ll be able to be apart from you for that long. I have an important meeting scheduled, and I’d like to take you with me. So we need to figure out how to do this.”

I pull myself up, straddling Rai's lap, who is now sitting on the bed. “I would _love_ to come with you. I’ve never heard of this city. Is this the one I saw on the map?”

“It is. It’s very different, culturally, from anything you’ve seen in Sisa. They have advanced technology that Sisa does not yet have, among other things. I’m not sure how they got it—if it’s legitimate progress or the work of devils. They practice the slave trade there, and you are marked as mine. I want you to stay by my side, so other cats will keep their hands to themselves.”

I think of his words. _Marked as his._ But really, I think of Rai as _mine_. So are his words really that offensive? I run my hands through his hair.

“I will be _fine_ ,” I say confidently.

“Konoe, this city is not like anything you’ve seen before.” I feel Rai’s hands on my back, sliding toward my tail. “And we will have to get you used to wearing clothes again,” he mutters.

“It’s just much cooler like this,” I say. “And faster. More convenient. This way, only _you_ have to undress.” I’m sure he can hear the smile in my voice. My thoughts are wandering again, and quickly. I think I’d like to take _him_ at some point—I had a rather wonderful dream about it last night. I wonder what he’d think if I did. Would he enjoy it as much as I do? Would he resist? My toes curl in delight at the mere thought.

“So, shall we practice by going above deck today?” Rai asks.

I’m so surprised that I nearly fall off his lap.

“Today?” The thought of fresh air on my skin fills me with delight.

“I will reward you if you do well.” His tone of voice sounds sultry and inviting, and I can’t ignore how irresistible it is to my ears.

“When?” I'd assumed he'd want to take care of his own needs first, which is why I’m nude, sitting on his lap, purring like I am.

“Let’s go now,” he suggests. “Just for a short while. And depending on how well you behave yourself, we will deal with rewards or punishments when we return.”

“Wait—punishments?” I hesitate.

“Yes, of course. I need to make sure that you will obey me when we are in a large crowd, little one. If I ask you to do something, I need to make sure you will _do_ it, even if you don’t currently feel like it. If you are unable to obey me, _I will punish you_.” Rai meets my eye firmly.

To my surprise, I feel a delightful shiver going down my spine, all the way into my tail. I know he can feel that shiver, too, especially because of the strategic place I am sitting. I look at his eye to see how serious he is being. _Is he teasing me?_

“I’m totally serious, Konoe.”

“What kind of punishment are you talking about?” I ask, a little timidly, but my voice sounds hopelessly full of lecherous anticipation. I can feel a blush starting to form on my neck, chest, and face.

“Well, I was thinking the typical kind. I would spank you if that suited the situation.”

“A spanking?” I haven’t been spanked since I was four. Well, that’s not entirely true. That must be a sailor thing. Bardo swatted my ass with a hairbrush during my first bath, as I recall.

“Oh, yes. I don’t think you’d find it pleasurable.” His voice sounds slightly strained.

I think about it, and the thought of this large silver cat, taking me over his knee, spanking my bare ass with his hand—ah—and the pleasured sound actually leaks from my throat. I feel my face flushing red, and my ears going pink. Immediately I drop my eyes to the floor.

“That sigh—you think a spanking would be _pleasant_?” Rai asks me, taking my chin in his hand, so he can meet my gaze. I still don’t like him to see me blushing. His other hand brushes my ears, which are getting pinker by the minute. “Your ears are pink, you know. Are you imagining what it might feel like? Having me take you over my knee, perhaps in front my entire crew? Asserting discipline in front of them? I assure you, it would _not_ feel pleasant. It would hurt. And it would be _humiliating_. It would sting those round cheeks of yours. Make them pinker than these sweet little ears.”

“Ah—no—don’t say that!” I can’t take anymore. My dick is getting hard just thinking about it. I’m not sure I’m going to make it, and I feel a bit breathless.

“Let’s get some clothes on you,” Rai says, suddenly changing his tone, pulling me up, and gently helping me into a yukata, patterned in browns and gold. He drapes it low in front, so the chain between my piercings is visible, but my nipples are covered. Then, he skillfully ties the obi. I’m shocked at how quickly he is able to do this. I’m not wearing underwear, which I find arousing enough to be distracting. He offers me a pair of zori for my feet, and then fixes his own clothes, grabbing his hat at the last moment.

“You don’t wear your hat indoors, do you?” I ask.

“No,” Rai says. “I always remove the cover indoors. It’s part of nautical etiquette. Just as, you will see, I’m only saluted when I’m wearing the cover. A salute is like tipping the hat. If you’re not wearing a cover, it makes no sense to tip your hat. Inside, as captain, I’m usually just greeted politely. Outdoors, sailors will salute me.”

“Ah,” I say. I had no idea there were such complicated rules. And even pirates follow them.

“So you don’t have to salute since you have no cover.”

“Yes, sir,” I respond.

Rai leans down and kisses me roughly on the mouth. Quietly, he whispers, “And you make sure you’re on your best behavior. Any disobedience on your part will be punished swiftly and severely.” I feel his hand sliding down to my ass as he says this. He gives me a little squeeze.

I can feel my entire body quiver at his words—almost in _anticipation_. He should have _never_ said anything. _It’s entirely too tempting!_ He takes my arm and leads me outside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai's point of view--he brings Konoe above deck for a change of fresh air, and also to test his obedience. It doesn't go well for Konoe, but Captain Rai has a great time.
> 
> Warning: Non-consensual spanking, violence, intimidation.

I can feel the smaller cat shiver beneath my fingers as I lead him to the deck. Perhaps it’s the anticipation of being outside and in the fresh air after being indoors for nearly a week, but I expect it’s something else _entirely_. Against my better judgment, I ponder the reason as I lead him through the hull of the ship.

He started acting like this the moment I brought up the idea of rewards and punishments. I have to confess, I’ve thought of how it might feel to drag his lithe body over my knee and give him a sound spanking more times than I care to admit—even when I ought to be concentrating on work and when I’m not even in the same room with him. He has the _perfect_  ass for such an activity. I’d just need to find the right excuse.

In fact, I considered doing just _that_ if he attacked me today, and I was actually disappointed that he was able to control himself. I’ll have to find another way to bring discipline into this odd relationship we have. So far I can say I’m _delighted_ with his enthusiastic response.

Even now, as I’m guiding him through the halls, I can still feel him quivering. I _know_ it isn’t fear. I’ve seen him shake with fear, and I’ve seen him quiver with sexual anticipation enough times to be able to tell the difference. I’m thrilled to see that this is _definitely_ the latter. I’m surprised, however, that he’s being so open about it.

I mean, yes, he blushed—of course, he would. The poor little thing can’t do _anything_ without showing embarrassment on his face and in those cute, oversized ears of his. I don’t mind that at all. It’s a wonderful way for me to gauge his feelings toward our activities—if I’m being too rough or too gentle, for example. It’s a great way for me to tell whether his interest is real or feigned, whether it’s an activity I should pursue or whether I should try something else.

I shouldn’t be terribly surprised, because he seems interested in being restrained. He seems to actually enjoy it—as long as I don’t _leave_ him while he is restrained, I suppose. He didn’t much care for that _at all_. I can’t forget the pained, hurt look on his face when he discovered I kept him chained to the bed when other cats were scheduled to enter my quarters.

My heart aches when I remember that face. I probably should have apologized then. I will do so later. Just because I’m captain of the ship doesn’t mean I never make mistakes. I need to make sure he understands the reasons behind my actions, and I need to apologize for hurting his feelings, even if I find it necessary to do it again in the future.

He doesn’t understand the power he holds over others. He only has to approach them to instigate an attack, I think. I don’t believe he has any concept of how his scent affects others. I’m trying to teach him this slowly, starting with this trip outside today.

His scent right now is nearly overpowering—at least to me—but I figure, we will be outdoors. And there aren’t many crew scheduled this time of night, so if anyone _is_ tempted by him, it won’t be a problem. I alerted Bardo in advance, so he should be available to help if needed.

There he is, in fact. This time, he’s left little Ciel in his chambers to rest. The last time I saw Ciel, he seemed to be having trouble walking, and Bardo seemed to have quite a bounce in his step. But that may just have been my imagination. An odd age difference, but who am I to judge? Compatibility is compatibility. Plus Ciel looks incredibly taken with the old man. I keep my thoughts to myself, greeting him with a nod.

He opens the door, and I lead my little cat outdoors. The moon of shadow is full, casting a pale light on deck, illuminating his hair and face, making him look even softer and sweeter than usual. Gods, I want to kiss him, but that wouldn't really fit with the goals I have in mind tonight. First, get some fresh air in his lungs. Kissing him that would hinder that, I suppose. Second, expose him to some other cats. Third, make sure he will do as he’s told, even if it isn’t his first choice. Fourth, punish his behavior publicly if he doesn’t.

I see him close his eyes against the wind, and I realize that it’s a little chilly on deck for a cat dressed only in a silk yukata. I should have offered him a jacket or cape as well, and it slipped my mind. But he takes a deep breath, and a gorgeous smile lights up his face. He looks relieved.

“Feel good?” I ask.

He looks up at me—I will never get tired of those golden eyes—his smile only widening. “I’ve missed the fresh air so much.”

The wind has picked up his scent and his voice, and so his presence has been noted on deck. Several sailors salute me and greet him politely, eyeing him with more than slightly curious glances. I see their noses twitching, ears tilting his way, tails fluffing out, waiting for him to say more. Several sailors move downwind to bask in his scent. It irritates me, but I understand why they do it.

Bardo picks up on this, too, and he walks over to address them. “Are you at your posts?” He sounds gruff. The small cat looks in Bardo’s direction, and I want to distract him, so I pull him to the port side of the ship where we should be able to see the island.

“Look—out there—the lights,” I point, positioning my body behind his, fully shielding him from the wind. I feel the ocean spray lightly against my face. It feels wonderful.

“I see them, I see them!” He sounds excited. “It’s huge! Gods, is that Midorijima? Wow—amazing! Look at those lights—it’s so beautiful!” Listening to his voice, filled with joy like that, he’s hard to resist. I hope he doesn’t think to make any requests right now because I won't be able to deny him anything. I can’t help running my hands along the sides of his body as he’s excitedly looking at the lights on the coast. How am I supposed to teach him obedience when I feel this way?

“I have something to help you see a little more if you’d like to use it.”

His face brightens immediately, ears and tail twitching, he looks at me eagerly, expectantly. “May I?”

“Come,” I mumble into one of his soft ears. I pull him to the helm, where the current pilot offers me a salute, eyeing Konoe uncomfortably. I hand Konoe the spyglass and say, “Use this. It will magnify the view.”

Stunned sighs—purring sounds that sound _more_ than surprised, _more_ than delighted, in fact, drawing _every ear_ on deck—fall from my little Siren’s sweet mouth—music to my ears, making shivers course up my spine, and of course, have the same effect on everyone else in the vicinity. He's drawing every cat's eye and attention with those sounds!

Noticing that his pleasure in experiencing the view attracts more attention than I’d prefer, I whisper in his ear, “Perhaps today, and _only_ today, since we are not alone, you might tone down your voice. You appear to be distracting my crew.”

“Eh— _What_?” Konoe looks up, embarrassed, a fresh pink color rushing to his ears. He sees the eyes watching him, the mouths literally salivating over him. He drops his gaze to the ground and says, “I’m sorry, I only meant—“

“No apologizing, little one,” I say, lifting his chin and kissing his lips gently, which pulls another one of those delightful sounds from him. “Just try to _control those utterances_.”

He smiles. “I will.” He turns back to the scenery. I lean over the railing, just observing him. His wonder fascinates me. He’s never traveled outside of Sisa before, so of course, he’ll be overwhelmed. However, he can’t seem to get those sounds under control, I notice—he continues sighing with pleasure—and my crew has also noticed. I wonder—will this be the issue I use to exercise my authority over him?

“Little one,” I whisper directly into his ear, making him jump since he is so absorbed with the spyglass. “Your sighing, gasping and moaning over the sights is still quite distracting. Are you disobeying me and distracting my crew on purpose? Turn around, look at the distraction you’re causing. See for yourself.”

I know he _hates_ to be embarrassed, especially in front of me, and it’s bordering on cruel to point it out so directly, but I can see _all_ the cats on deck, including Bardo, _peering_ at him, _salivating_ in his general direction. The small cat shyly glances over his shoulder to take a quick peek, and then instantly, turns his back to face the sea.

The current lookout is observing our interaction with more interest than is healthy and figures now is the perfect time to butt in, the nosey son of a bitch. He calls down from his place in the crow’s nest, “Would you like an even better view from up here, Siren?”

Konoe jumps at the chance, moving to join him (and probably escape me) but I put a hand on his shoulder. I whisper in his ear, “I’d _rather_ you stay by my side.”

“But—“ His sweet honey-colored eyes look up at me, filled with longing and pleading. “Wouldn’t I be able to see so much better from up above? I won’t be gone long! Plus the others won’t be able to hear me up there.” He tries moving away from me, going his own way.

“ _Konoe_.” I know the lookout’s intentions quite well, however, and he is one of the cats who I’ve caught standing outside my quarters, several times, enjoying my Siren’s scent. I know he wants to get Konoe alone. The thought of another cat even _touching_ my Siren brings my anger to boiling.

I clamp my hand down more firmly on his small shoulder and wrap the other around his waist. He whips his head around toward me, tail fluffing out fully.

“Don’t you remember the conversation we had _just_ before we came upstairs? The _criteria_ I had about you being permitted above deck?” My voice increases in volume, and I meet his direct gaze.

Konoe’s ears deepen in color—I can see his blush even under this pale moonlight—and I struggle to keep my face straight. Gods, he’s _adorable_.

“Yes, sir, I do.” His face falls slightly, and his anxiety has increased.

His ears are burning up, and I can’t help myself. I reach out my fingers. They are hot to the touch. “And still, you try to escape me, _disobey_ me, and go your own way?”

Another surprised noise drops from his lips—but those sounds, regardless of what he intends, don’t only sound surprised. They sound increasingly _sensual_. I wave my hand around, indicating the crew, and every eye is glued on him.

“Regardless, _this_ is what happens,” I say, quite matter of factly. “And what’s _worse_ ,” I pull him close, pinning his body between the railing and my legs, “I’m afraid you have affected _me_ as well, regardless of your intentions. What do you plan to _do_ about it?”

He jerks his head up rather desperately—I see a tiny bit of fear in his eyes, which sends another electrical jolt directly into my groin. _Why is his fear affecting me like this?_  His sweet voice floats into my ears.

“I’ll take full responsibility for my actions.” The anxiety in his voice fills me with a powerful feeling—and it’s _really_ turning me on.

“Oh, yes, I am _sure_ you will,” I say, my volume increasing. “I have an idea of what you can do for me _later_. But what about my crew? What can you do for _them_?”

Konoe freezes. He gets a rebellious look on his face and spits out, “Well, if they get turned on by something as _ridiculous_ as me looking through a spyglass, that’s their _own_ stupid fault!”

I squeeze Konoe’s ass quite firmly and quite suddenly—hard enough to make him squeal. “Ah! What are you d—?” He barely squeaks out his protest.

“Hush,” I hiss loudly, pulling myself up to my full height. “Where is this insolence coming from? When I asked you to keep your voice down, you _deliberately_ disobeyed me. And now, you’re showing nothing but _more_ insolence, despite the suffering you put my crew through?”

“Suffering? What are you talking about?” I hear more desperation and anxiety in his voice, and that’s bringing me closer to the edge.

“Your tone—get your _tone_ under control,” I snap, now in my full-volume captain’s voice. I’m still only playing with him, but I _am_ trying to scare him a little—I _want_ to frighten him, I want to see what he will do. _I can’t help it._ I want to see him _afraid_. I want to _humiliate_ this small cat in front of these crew members here and now, and just so I can cover him with kisses and forgiveness later on in my quarters. Also, I want to make sure he will learn to _obey_ me, so I can trust him once we’re on land.

Apparently, this small cat hasn’t heard me in full captain mode before, because he now _cowers_ before me. I feel a pang of guilt when I see his stance—tail fully fluffed out in fear, ears tilted back and flat against his head, pupils fully dilated. His body is low to the ground, and he tries to escape my grip, but I have no plans to release him.

I glance at Bardo, just in time to see him lick his lips. He knows _exactly_ what I’m doing. This is that power play he told me about, and I’m giving it a try in a low-risk situation. This will set me up as a figure of _authority_ over Konoe, in a position of power. Even if Konoe has supernatural powers as a Siren that can control me, he will hesitate to use them if he sees me as a person of absolute authority.

“Before allowing you to set foot upstairs, you agreed that you would _obey_ me, even if the situation seemed awkward, difficult, strange, or not to your liking, did you not?” My voice booms across the deck. My crew doesn’t move an inch, watching our exchange.

My little Siren is frozen in place, unsure of how to respond. He doesn’t make a sound.

“ _Did you not_ , little one? I am waiting for your answer.” My voice is loud, and I have the attention of everyone on deck.

“Yes, I did.” His voice is very quiet, full of remorse, and his response ends with a breathy sigh.

“Do you feel like you have fulfilled your end of the bargain?” Again, I’m speaking like I would to a disobedient sailor, not to a lover.

He hesitates to answer again, probably afraid of the consequences of his words. I can feel his body quaking beneath my fingers. I squeeze his shoulder more tightly, making sure I have his attention.

“ _Do you_?” I ask again, as though my patience were running thin, this time, grasping his chin with the hand that was wrapped around his waist, tilting his face up to meet my eye.

“N-no.” His voice purrs, ever so gently. Konoe’s fur is _lovely_ when it’s fluffed out to this extent, when his pupils are wide like this. He looks slightly more afraid that I’d prefer, but I think the fear will feed into his experience. I hope he will learn from this.

“So, how are you going to make it up to the crew? I _know_ how you can make it up to me, and you _will_ make it up to me. But you cannot be making lewd noises like this, especially not _right_ after I tell you not to, and expect no consequences. This disobedience will _not_ be tolerated. The crew deserves to see that you have _paid_ for your insolence.”

Understanding lights up in Konoe’s eyes, and it simultaneously adds to his terror. Things are _not_ proceeding the way he’d anticipated, but then, I can feel that lithe body of his betraying him even _despite_ his fear. I witness that _same_ shiver, starting with his cute, pink ears all the way to the tip of his tail. His face lights up again with a brand new blush because he _knows_ I saw that shiver. He licks his lips before opening his mouth.

“Wh-what are you going t-to _do_ to me?” He sounds slightly frightened, but his voice is _covered_ in lust. It’s an almost sticky, honeyed sound, and it gets my juices flowing to distraction. The crew has given up trying to pretend they are ignoring our interaction. No one can look away.

“Exactly what we discussed,” I say matter-of-factly. “Right here. Out in the open. Where the crew can watch you learn your lesson.”

“N-no,“ His voice protests, full of anxiety, and he tries to pull away. “Please, not here—“

“Oh, I don’t think so, little one. You don’t get to choose. You made your choice when you disobeyed me. Get over here.” I sit down a barrel about midship, pulling him along with me, rather roughly. I figure the crew will have the best view here. Gods, I’m excited to do this. I can’t _believe_ how hard I am—I can barely control myself.

I pull him across my lap and hold him still by squeezing him between my thighs. I remove one of my belts, and Konoe’s eyes flash up to mine in fear— _real_ terror—when he hears the buckle clink. My mind is hazy, blurry—and I can hardly wait to get started.

“Rai—“ his voice begins to plead, ever so softly. I think I feel his knees shaking a little.

“That’s _Captain_ to you,” I say, my voice loud and hard, unmoving. “Even _more_ insolence? I’d think in this state you’d learn your _place_ and show a little _respect_.”

I wonder if I may be going overboard for the poor little kitten in my lap, but I’m _so_ excited to finally be getting my hands on him like this, I can’t _help_ myself.

“Captain,” he begs, “please, _please_ —you’re not going to use a _belt_?” He sounds truly afraid, and the fear in his voice—oh gods, the _fear_ in his voice—it brings saliva to my mouth and hardens my dick like a rock. It won’t occur to me till later that my reaction might _not_ be normal—but I don’t dwell on it, for now.

“You should count yourself lucky you’re not getting the _whip_ , my pretty little thing,” I continue, “which is what most of the crew here probably thinks you deserve. But I think a belt should satisfy them.”

A slightly frenzied cheer goes up, and the small cat—no, he’s really a kitten now—caught between my legs seems to shrink in size, completely flattening his ears to his head, and he hides his face.

“Come on up, then.” I bend his small body over my knee, pulling him onto his tiptoes. Oddly, one of those same, sexual-sounding purring sounds leaks out of him, the minute I pull his yukata up over his hips, revealing his perfect, round ass. I hesitate to do this in front of the crew—I _don’t_ want to share his perfection with them, but I think he needs to feel this humiliation for the full effect of the punishment.

He is pleading with me—“ _Please_ , no, I can’t do this, not here, _please_ , please”—and his voice, gods— _that voice_ —it’s doing something to me. But it _certainly_ isn’t discouraging me from what I’m about to do. If anything I feel lust like I’ve never felt, and a desire to punish him for turning on my entire crew, just because he was enjoying the sights! I want to _humiliate_ him, and I want him to feel like he is _mine_ , and mine _alone_.

Gods, every time I see that ass, I can’t help myself. I hear murmurs of appreciation, which I ignore, and I run my hand over the smooth, perfect globes possessively, and feel him shiver beneath my hand. He is shaking with fear now as well as anticipation, and I’m about to explode from the excitement.

I fold the belt in half, making sure to keep the buckle away from his tender skin. I pause just a moment, enjoying the sensation of him on my lap—unable to _believe_ that this is actually happening. I run my hand over his ass one more time—in fact, I let my fingers slip in between his cheeks as well—and I feel his dick twitch against my legs. He’s half hard!  _Gods, this cat!_ He’s going to be the death of me, I know it!

I give him the first blow, right in the center of those cheeks. The sound of the belt slapping his soft skin is more than impressive—not just the sound from the belt, but also the cry that tears from his mouth. He is shocked at the stinging pain that follows. While it _is_ a cry of pain, the purring in his voice is still present—I can even _feel_ the rumbling purr from his body against my thighs.

However—I notice feel two things on my lap immediately after the first blow. First, Konoe’s fluffy tail starts to undulate back and forth, _more_ than provocatively. In fact, it looks like it does when he’s getting close to climax. It’s _incredibly_ sexy—however, I _really_ don’t like that he’s doing this in front of the crew. Second, while I could feel that his dick had previously slightly softened (probably because of his fear, humiliation, and anxiety), after receiving the first stinging smack on his ass, I can feel him start to stiffen against my thighs. And he _continues_ to stiffen with each blow. And since he’s nude, I even feel him as he starts leaking on my legs—he is _that_ hard—from a fucking _belt spanking_!

The next blow is equally as loud, but I concentrate more on the left cheek, the third more on the right. The fourth I aim slightly lower, close to where the rounded shape of his ass and his legs meet—one of his most sensitive spots. When I groom him there, I can instantly get him in the mood, in fact. With that blow, I earn myself a delicious-sounding high-pitched scream from the cat squirming in my lap, and both small hands come up to protect his bare bottom.

He is still struggling to get off my lap and away from the punishment—he is _far_ from submission. I hesitate to spank him much harder—I don’t wish to leave welts—so instead, I pin his hands behind his back, grabbing hold of his tail near the base with the same hand. This gives me perfect control of his body. He arches his back and bottom  _quite_ nicely like this. I hear _adorable_ , frustrated sighs leaking from his mouth as well.

I know how to use a belt. I can make it _sound_ loud without doing any damage. It looks painful, it sounds painful, and it leaves lovely pink stripes on that gorgeous pale skin of his—which match his gorgeous pink ears—without doing any longterm or serious damage. He won’t blister, he won’t bruise, it won’t break the skin or leave welts. This is meant to sting, frighten, and humiliate, but _not_ cause permanent damage. I only want him to _submit_ to me.

The sounds he’s making change from single loud shouts with each blow, to louder, screaming cries, then to moans and groans, all tinged with that purring sexual overtone. And I can tell from the faces of the crew that this is _quite_ a treat for them. Crew members with partners are going to head back to their own quarters for some extracurricular activities tonight, I suspect. Hell, even those _without_ partners will be up for something!

Also, I try to remember the goal is to make him _submit_ and _obey_. I know he said he didn’t want to be a possession. But I don’t think he realizes his position. And like I said, I don’t mind some feisty behavior, especially not in the bedroom, and especially not if it means we can resort to this sort of reward/consequence play. But he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t understand who I am. I may not be able to love him like he is asking me to love him. And he needs to understand that he has _no_ choices in this relationship. Well, his choice is to obey _now_ , or obey later and suffer the consequence. This is _not_ a relationship in which he can assert his rights.

In fact, _I do own him_ , and _I will not share_. I see him as _mine_.

After the next few spanks, the sweet little kitten releases several lovely cries—and then _finally_ , I hear _tears_. Once individual cries start blending into constant tears, I know we are nearly there. Once his body relaxes into the punishment, I know he’s submitted. He may not have accepted his position entirely, but at least he isn’t fighting _this_ punishment anymore. It’s taken much longer than I suspected it would, but I don’t mind at all. And so, I start to slow down the blows.

I give him two more very hard slaps on his sit spot—hard enough so he will feel them tomorrow and _remember_ them—and he yelps very loudly, with tears and everything—and then, I let the belt fall to the floor. Now comes the fun part. Using my hand, I rub his bare bottom, and it’s hot to the touch and nearly cherry red. It’s _amazingly_ beautiful—matching his adorable pink ears—I wish I could keep his ass and his ears this color all the time. I want to _lick_ it—in fact, it takes everything I have not to start grooming him right _here_ and now, so I’d best finish up what I’m doing, and get on with it.

Keeping him on display, his yukata disheveled, I pull him up to a kneeling position on my lap, facing me. His face is covered in tears, and he is still crying when he looks at me. His face looks genuinely wounded, pained, as though his feelings are hurt. It pains my heart when he looks at me like this, but he is _so_ beautiful.

“You did well. I’m _proud_ of you. I’m sure the crew feels you took your punishment well, too, and that they can forgive you, both for your insolence and leading them on earlier this evening.” I speak to him encouragingly, brushing the hair out of his face. With him facing me, however, I can see how hard he is—gods, it looks like he’s about to come. I’m _amazed_ —and from a belt spanking—jeez!

I glance around at the crew—the audience has grown significantly, probably drawn here by Konoe’s wonderful scent and his delicious-sounding cries—and they give a loud cheer.

“I think that’s enough of an outing for you today, however.” I’m using my inside voice now, which is surprisingly husky and breathless. I pick him up, throwing him over my shoulder, keeping my hand on that warm red ass of his—and I hear him protest as I touch it—I wonder if it’s sore to the touch? Did I perhaps go overboard? It isn’t as though I didn’t warn him, though. It was _his_ choice to disobey me. I gave him a fair warning!

In quick strides, I carry him across the deck, his bottom exposed to the cool night breeze, and then back to my quarters. I want to get to work on grooming this gorgeous ass of his—as well as taking care of both of our issues that have "arisen" during this event.

Plus, he still needs to make up his insolence to _me_ , I think, with an evil grin. That spanking was just for the sake of the crew—not to make up his insolence to _me_. I have some ideas brewing...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai brings Konoe back to his chamber, and he's less than pleased with his disobedient behavior above deck. Back to Konoe's point of view, he can't exactly what is going on, or what is happening to his body, but he feels he'd better find a way to deal with his anger, confusion and sexual frustration once Rai threatens him. 
> 
> Notes: Non-consensual spanking, intimidation, biting, mild violence.

My breath is still hitching when Rai drops me on the bed back in his quarters. I’m thankful he’s carried me because I’m so out of breath from the beating there’s no _way_ I could have walked myself.

My brain is muddled and confused, and I can’t even tell if my tears have stopped. Certainly, the outing above deck did _not_ go as planned.

I crawl away from him as soon as I get my bearings, moving as far from him as I can. I _don’t_ want him to touch me. At least, I don’t _think_ I want him touching me. I’m so confused I don’t _know_ what I want. My body, mind, and emotions are in total disarray. I feel _completely_ manipulated and frustrated.

When he walked through the door, Rai untied my obi. Knowing I would try to get away from him, he also held onto my yukata while I was still within reach. So now, I find myself naked, yet again. That pisses me off, adding to the mess of garbled emotions swirling around inside my head because I _don’t_ want to expose any more of myself to him right now. I grab a blanket, covering my important bits, and I look away, refusing to meet his eye.

I am surprised to hear _him_ growling, probably at my actions. But I refuse to raise my face.

If _anyone_ has a right to be angry, it’s _me_. I can’t believe what happened up there. He _humiliated_ me, in front of the crew. He _exposed_ me, every weakness and limitation of my position on this ship. But that wasn’t enough: he _literally_ exposed me to all of them, giving them quite a show, which is what I thought he was trying to avoid, all at _my_ expense! My face and ears burn just thinking about it, not to mention my ass, which is still on fire for a completely different reason.

Plus, it really _hurt_! I thought it might be fun and even a little exciting when he first suggested punishment—I thought he was teasing, using that sexy voice of his, like when he’s restrained me or pulled my hair, or when he’s bitten my ear, my tail, or other parts of my body during the past few days. He has been plenty rough with me at other times, but he’s _never_ hurt me like that! That was downright _painful_! I’m sure my ass is covered in stripes. I mean, hell—he used a fucking _belt_! My _mother_ never even used a belt on me.

I feel a shiver going down my spine into my tail, and I feel the rage threatening to boil over because it _isn’t_ a shiver of fear. It’s _desire_. That’s what’s pissing me off even more! I got _so_ excited from the pain he administered that I nearly _climaxed_ , right there, on his lap. In fact, if he hadn’t stopped when he had, I might have come, right there, in front of his entire crew, from a _fucking belt spanking_!

What the hell is _wrong_ with me? What is happening to my body? Since when do I respond to pain like this? I _hate_ it! I think I even hate myself.  
  
I feel the tears that have been pricking the corners of my eyes overflow again, and they start to leak out, sneaking down my cheeks. What is _happening_ to me?

Is it because it was _him_ , holding me down like that? Because he was the one doing it? Perhaps his scent is irresistible to me since I’ve been kept locked away for so many days? Or is a physical response, a part of becoming a Siren? That frightens me even more—the thought of becoming aroused by physical pain. Is this a new thing? A _permanent_ thing? It certainly _wasn’t_ because it didn’t hurt—it _did_ hurt— _it hurt like hell!_ Just remembering it—remembering each time that belt came down, either hitting one cheek, both, or worse, that part of my ass where my legs meet—my gods! The stinging, burning pain is _still_ there, hot in my memory, hot in my face, hot in my ears, hot in my ass. Discouraged and humiliated, I feel my dick getting hard again from remembering the details; in fact, it’s dripping with lewd excitement, even still.

Thank gods I have a blanket over my lap. _This is so humiliating!_ I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive him for this. Why would he do this? Why would he put me in that position? Why would he want to expose this part of me—and _there_ , in public, of all places? _  
_  
I know _he_ knows, too. How could he _not_ notice? He was holding me securely over his knee, pushing me against his thighs, I can still almost feel his hand holding mine fast along with my tail, and I _know_ he felt me struggling. I’m _sure_ he noticed. Did he _know_ this would happen? Was this in one of his books, too?

I angrily wipe the tears from my face, and I hear another growl. This time, however, the growl sounds _extraordinarily_ fierce, and it’s intimidating enough to catch my attention. The sound raises the short, furry hair on the back of my neck, so I glance up—and my rage _instantly_ dissolves into terror.

I’ve _never_ seen Rai like this. His fur is fluffed out to its fullest position. I know he has long fur on his tail, but now it looks absolutely _menacing_ : the fur is spiked out perpendicularly from base to tip, and the width looks nearly two feet in diameter. His furry ears are puffy as well, both aimed in _my_ direction on high alert, and they look twice their usual size, having lost their soft rounded shape altogether. His hair, too, is fluffy, and even it seems to be puffing out from his head, cascading around his shoulders. I didn't know cats could fluff out the hair on their heads like that. His body is tense—I mean, _every_ muscle is tense. His claws are drawn—longer claws that I could have ever guessed—his sharp fangs are bared and showing over his full lips, and even his pupil is drawn to a slit, showing more of that intense, pale blue iris than I’ve ever seen. I swallow audibly, painfully, and I don’t know what to do.

I’d fear for my life if I encountered this cat in any other situation—in fact, the smart part of me fears for my life _right now_. The _one_ thing that keeps me from complete panic is that his eye is _slightly_ glazed. Usually, he looks quite sharp. But now, his eye looks slightly hazy, filled with passion, still pale blue and gorgeous, but not as focused as usual. In fact, I watch that pupil, once I make eye contact, my body jerking quickly and awkwardly into a submissive position, my fur fluffed out but ears flat against my head, it widens to nearly the size of the iris. The expression on his face doesn’t change, and that hair-raising growling—it _isn’t_ stopping.

What’s the _matter_ with him? Shit. What do I do? My mind feels sticky and frozen, like my closed throat, but I do the best I can.

I slowly flatten my back against the bed, keeping my hands in view, and offer him my throat and my belly, which is what you’re _supposed_ to do as the submissive. I don’t know what else I _can_ do. _Have I really displeased him so much?_ Fear is coursing through my body.

His claws are so long and sharp—shit—I’ve never seen them before, and they truly frighten me. _Why is he so angry?_ He approaches the bed, taking fast, rough strides. He drops his hat, and both his belts and cape, while walking, and he continues stripping off his clothes—his coat, his shirt, his boots. I’m afraid, _more_ afraid that I was upstairs even, and I can scarcely breathe. I think of pleading and begging, but I can’t make a sound. I feel the bed quaking with fear.

My voice _might_ help me at a time like this _if_ I could make it come out. He says he _loves_ the sound of my voice, doesn’t he? Unless he’s too angry to listen to anything I have to say—and what would I even say? Then something shifts in my brain.

Seeing his beautiful silver fur like way, his muscular body tense, fangs bared, and claws drawn—it’s rather _intoxicating_. I can’t _believe_ that feeling pops up in my mind, but there it is. Even over my fear—I’m completely intoxicated—and that feeling starts to take over all my other feelings. I even feel my dick stiffen once again. I went limp with fear only second ago, and now...  _this_? I want to _touch_ him. In fact, I _want_ him. _I want him to take me._ I want him to take me, just like he is now.

 _Oh, my gods_ , the only sane voice in the back of my head screams. _Are you crazy!? Run, you crazy dumbass! Get out of here before he kills you!_

“Rai.” My voice finally comes out, a little hoarse, but surprisingly silken, flowing like honey, not at _all_ like the current tense feeling in my body. “I _want_ you.”

Another growl from Rai, this one louder, more intense, almost beast-like. His pupil narrows for a moment before blowing wide once more. His claws do not retract as he roughly pulls the blanket away from my body, exposing me fully. I don’t resist, though I feel a blush rising all the way to my ears. Another growl comes from his body as he grabs my ankle, as he harshly yanks my body down the bed, pulling me closer to his body, lining up my face with his. The growling is so loud when he's close to me like this, and it sends sweet shivers over my body.

His breath pants softly against my face—and it smells so sweet—I’ve always been able to smell his scent on his breath—his lips hover right above mine—but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, a long claw from the index finger of his right hand drags slowly across my head, my ear, and my temple, outlining my eyes, the hollows of my cheeks, my nose, and my lips, ever so slowly.

“Rai,” I call his name again, only _half_ -hoping to bring him back to his regular self, but honestly, I want _this_ cat. I want this wild beast-Rai.

I gasp when I feel the claw against my throat, tracing collarbones, outlining my nipples, pulling slightly on the chain between them, and then continuing down my abdomen. My stomach curves inward slightly from his frightening touch and my gasping breaths, but I keep my eyes glued to his.

I grab his face with both my hands, pulling him into a kiss. He does not bother covering his fangs, and I’m bitten—I taste the blood in my mouth—and a pained groan leaks from me as his tongue invades me, over and over, again like he _owns_ me.

I realize _that’s_ the lesson he was trying to teach me upstairs. _He owns me._ I’d better learn it sooner rather than later, or I’ll be in for a world of hurt. I return his kiss roughly, but I do not bite back. I also hold back the tears in my eyes as best I can. Although, being considered a possession—and _merely_  a possession—pains me to my very soul, like thorns in my heart.

Rai moves his face down my body once more, biting my throat again softly, following them with licks, but he definitely continues his biting. I lift up my face, giving him full access to my throat, not being _able_ to resist, not _wanting_ to resist. He continues his way downward, past my nipples; the pain he causes feels _delicious_ , though I have to lift up my back from the bed because of its intensity.

He growls and pushes me back down. I feel his claws against my skin, and he leaves marks on my arms and my back when he kisses and bites my stomach—it's almost like he’s tasting me. My sighs of pleasure and pain are muddled, but I don’t want him to stop. I want him to go lower still. Instead, he flips me over, quite roughly, and I’m reminded again of the humiliation I suffered upstairs in front of the crew.

The tears pricking my eyes overflow when I feel his tongue licking my sit spot. It feels both so soothing and so humiliating at the same time—the noises leaking from my mouth are confused and lewd—I feel pleasure, pain, desire, longing, _and_ I want to escape his touch. I don’t _want_ to feel this way—so I struggle—against my feelings and his touch—and I hear another growl.

He forces me to fold my knees underneath my body, which raises my ass up higher still, giving him easier access. I feel even _more_ humiliated—but then I feel his tongue—it’s rougher than mine and works so quickly, efficiently—and he feels _amazing_. It heats up my body when he uses those long, grooming strokes. I try to straighten out my legs to make my body flat and feel less embarrassed, but he holds me in place, restrained in that humiliating position.

In fact, when I struggle too violently, I feel his open palm come down with a loud smack, right against my swollen ass, ready to spank in that perfect position—and I expel a loud wail. But I  _immediately_ stop my struggle and obey, turning my head to the side, hiding my face. Apparently, I _do_ respond well to physical discipline. But I can’t hold out like this for much longer, and I squeeze my thighs together tightly.

That’s when he notices my tears. He stops his ministrations, his long hair brushing against my back. I keep my head turned away, and he growls again, loud and low. Finally, I hear his first words.

“Siren. _Look at me_.” His voice is deep, breathless and husky, but he sounds angry. He's addressing me like his _possession_. Like a _thing_. It makes my heart ache. I don’t obey. I _won't_ obey. I don’t care _how_ angry he is. He can growl all he wants, I will not turn my head if he’s going to make me sit in this humiliating—

Smack! Another slap on the ass tears another cry from my mouth, and then I find it in myself to give up my stubborn behavior. I keep my thighs squeezed together to stop the burning pain—and _pleasure_ —that is running through my body without an exit. I turn to face him, my breath still hitching slightly with a sob.

“Tears? Are these tears of regret? Repentance?” His voice softens, as he stretches out his long body, curling it around my form, keeping his hand on my ass, encouraging me to stay right where I am. His long tongue licks the tears on my cheek several times. 

“Repentance??” I almost spit at him.  
  
Briefly, his face hardens, and I feel another hard slap on my ass, making me jump and squeal—and to my utter surprise, and I _dissolve_ into tears—full sobbing, can’t-catch-my-breath tears. This hand spanking doesn’t hurt _anything_ like the belt spanking did, but it’s confusing, and it hurts my _feelings_ more than anything. Him speaking to me like I'm a mere thing, just a possession, it fills me with pain. And his touch just _turns me on so much_ I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t understand _why_ he is spanking me, why he is angry, what I did to displease him, or why I even care about pleasing this guy. I don’t understand my response, and I don’t understand his.

“Wh-what—“ I stammer through my sobs. “H-how—I d-don’t understand h-how I c-could have d-displeased you s-so m-much!” I am still crying.

“Konoe.” I feel a large, warm hand on my bottom, rubbing me gently. Because of how I’m sitting, those long, slender fingers dip down, brushing lightly across my sit spot, and it feels _so_ good. Each time his fingers brush me there, the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and my tail fluffs out, and I’m sure it’s flapping around wildly, out of control. I find his touch both soothing and incredibly arousing—so arousing it feels like something is pulling painfully in my abdomen. Rai licks the tears from my face once more, which is slightly disconcerting. 

“Our agreement, before we went on deck, do you remember what it was?” His voice is soft and low, yet firm. His eye does not waver from my face.

“I think so. I was going to get some fresh air, and you’d reward me if I did well?” I answer to the best of my ability.

“And?” He prompts me to continue, touching my chin with a claw, which is still drawn. I notice I can still see his fangs.

“Punish me if I didn’t,” I say much more quietly, eyes slightly downcast. I must not have done well, then?

“Did you understand what I meant by ‘doing well,’ or was that too vague?” Rai has started fondling my ears and stroking my hair as he lies next to me, watching my expression. 

I look slightly past his face, over his shoulder, hesitating before I answer.

“Keep your eyes on me, kitten.” The words are spoken softly, but I jerk my gaze back to his immediately upon his request, fearing another swift smack on my ass if I don't obey.

“I think it was about me doing what you asked me to do?” I form my answer like a question, so as not to seem to sure of myself. When did I not do as he asked? … Was it not being able to control my voice? Was that really _all_ it was? I was _only_ looking at the sights! I find myself feeling a little indignant, but I try to keep my body relaxed. 

“Very good,” Rai says, pleased I remember the details. “Even if it was something unpleasant, or something you didn’t agree with or feel like doing. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” I say very quietly, working even harder to keep my body relaxed in this tight little ball in which he’s positioned me.

“I’m glad. I don’t believe I’ve treated you unfairly.” Rai sighs. I feel a flash of dangerous rage at his comment, but again, I maintain control. “This is an essential lesson for you to learn. While learning to control your voice is important, the risk was low above deck this evening. It was the perfect place to practice. The crew was small, so if they were unable to control themselves because you couldn’t control your voice, I wouldn’t have a problem coming to your rescue. So _that’s_ why I asked you to control your voice this evening. If other cats weren't around, it would have been fine for you to make any kind of noise you wanted. Do you understand?”

His hand wanders across my back and shoulders comfortingly, and it irks me. I’m trying to understand what he said, but my anger is interfering with my logic. Is he saying other cats can’t control themselves around my voice?

“Today, the cats on deck were paying _very_ close attention to _every_ sound you made. I think perhaps you don’t realize the effect your voice has on others. That’s why I asked you to practice control. If we were in a large city, like Midorijima, and you can’t control your voice, you will be in _serious_ trouble. _Cats may be unable to control themselves when they hear you,_ Konoe, so _hear_ me when I say this. Don’t you remember the sailors listening outside in the hallway? It’s partly your scent, partly your voice. They _will_ attack you. And in large groups, that may mean your life or freedom. That was the first lesson.”

His hand is back on my ass, stroking so softly, even though it stings a little, it feels kind of nice. I consider the words he’s spoken, but I really don’t appreciate this current humiliating pose. I’m embarrassed with my ass in the air like this, so I try moving once more. Once again, I feel a stinging slap on my ass when I attempt to move, which makes me grunt and squeeze my thighs together desperately. I can see my tail whipping around wildly in the corner of my eye.

“Why not try doing _exactly_ what I ask you to do for a while?” Rai’s voice sounds almost harsh, but quiet, but his face is much softer. “I made an effort to pose you like this, and it pleases me. Is it _such_ an imposition just to be _still_ for a few moments? It would be so much easier for you to just submit to me, hmm?” I feel him lick my ear. After a short pause, he asks, “Did you understand what I said earlier?”  
  
I guess I do understand it. I _really_ want to resist, but I do understand. “You were trying to protect me. And I resisted your protection.”

“That’s correct. There may come a time in which we are in a dangerous situation, and I ask you to do something that doesn’t sound right. You may rather do something else. But my experience outweighs yours. I need you to trust my experience. Also, I want you to understand that I can also overpower you when necessary. So you should just do as I ask when I ask to save both of us time.”

He frightens me. But perhaps it makes sense, too. Especially if he thinks of me as a _possession_. I’m filled with bitterness. I sigh deeply.

“I want to _protect_ you, Konoe. I never want you to come to harm. I don’t want to hurt you—I don’t want _anyone_ to hurt you—but if you learn your lessons better this way, I _will gladly_ discipline your body to help you remember.” There’s a tiny smile on his face when he says these words, his fangs still showing.

When he says the words “discipline your body,” blood rushes into my lower half and a small longing sigh leaks from my mouth. He is an amazingly attractive cat. Damn him.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” He is examining my face.

“Yes.” I blink slowly.

“I don’t want to leave you on board when we arrive in Midorijima. So tonight, show me you can do what I ask _when_ I ask. _Prove_ to me that you are trustworthy. Make up for what happened up on deck.”

I don’t understand. I sure as hell don’t want to be left locked in here for a week while we’re in port, either.But still, I hesitate. “I’m not sure I understand what you want from me.”

“If you understand I’m your protector, if you believe I have your best interests at heart, _trust me._ Do you believe that, little one? I’ve turned the world upside down, searching for _you_ , after all.” His voice is absolutely hypnotizing, smooth as silk in my ears. Hearing him speak like this feels the same as a caress. It's raising goosebumps on my skin, and he can see the effect he's having on me. It really isn’t fair.

I can’t help myself, but I feel a little drool forming on my lips, and I lick it away quickly and swallow. “I do,” I answer quickly. 

“Therefore, you should _obey_ me in all things, _without question_ , _without hesitation_. Tonight, I’m going to have you the way I _want_ , and not only are you going to allow it, you are going to obey every single command  _without_ hesitation. You will do _everything_ I ask you to do, no questions asked. You won’t resist anything. Do you understand?"

His words make the breath momentarily leave my body, all at once—as if his words physically knock the wind out of me—and a fresh heat shoots through my body. My dick feels hard enough to burst.

“Even if you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed, or if what I ask causes you pain, _you will do it_ without hesitation. This is how you will be making up for this evening. This is how you will be _earning my trust._ If you can do this, I'll be able to trust you to bring you with me to port. Do you understand?”

My breath is coming hard and fast—but at least I’m breathing again. I feel like I might pass out from excitement. A fine layer of sweat covers my body—and I can’t believe I’m feeling like this after the anger I was feeling only moments ago! It makes no sense! Every cell of my being wants to reach out to this powerful silver cat lying next to me, but I’m afraid of getting burned.

“Y-yes.” I feel a thrill to my very bones at his commanding tone. Something new blossoms inside of me—like a flower centered in my chest—and it’s making my heart beat so fast I’m afraid I might explode. I’ve never been so aroused in my life—I just hope I can make it till he tells me I may come. And _that_ thought—the thought he might _command_ me to come—sends a ripple of pleasure through my body like nothing I’ve experienced so far, and I nearly lose it right then and there.  
  
“All right. Let’s get started then.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third person Rai, in which he's trying to decide what to do with Konoe. Then switch back to Konoe's POV, where he gets gung-ho about proving his ability to control himself, so he won't be stuck on the ship for the entire time they are in port. Rai doesn't make things easy for him, though, and things don't go according to plan.
> 
> We are introduced to the Siren in this chapter, who gets his own voice.

Rai turns rolls onto his back with a sigh, thinking about how to begin. He glances at the shivering creature next to him. Konoe’s entire demeanor has changed several times since they’ve returned to the chamber, as though he’s shifted into several different cats in rapid succession. He’s seen a confused and frustrated Siren, close to boiling over with rage, trying to hide his arousal in response to those feelings. Then, after encountering Rai growling and bristled, his Siren cowered in fear, and strangely, endured even more passion and longing, which the little one also unintentionally exposed.

Finally, he just witnessed the smaller cat submit—restraining both his words and actions—in order to gain Rai’s approval, and that excites him _,_ even just the _memory_ of it. Holding power and control over this supernatural being awakes within Rai a magical sense of command and authority, real or imagined, and he plans to sample it, right _now_.

Watching the small cat shivering in anticipation, from the tips of his adorably blushing ears to his wildly undulating tail, in response to Rai’s commanding tone _alone_ —the fact that this supernatural being cannot hide his desire and yearning for _him_ is intensely provocative. That this alluring innocent is aroused by painful stimuli is fascinating in itself. However, the fact that Rai can get his juices flowing by his voice alone is beyond even his wildest dreams. _I wonder—is this what_ he _feels, having the power of the Siren’s voice to captivate others?_

While it is true he wants to trust his Siren will obey under any circumstance, that isn’t why he’s here now. That isn’t what tonight is _really_ about—not for Rai. He wants the Siren to learn his place, of course, but mostly, he’s fascinated by this newly discovered facet—the part that _enjoys_ pain, _enjoys_ being controlled, enjoys _submission_. _Let me be your teacher._

He takes another deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, inhaling his wonderful, warm, inviting scent. Then, he assumes his role of strict authoritarian.

 

* * *

 

I keep my body frozen in place, despite my humiliation, as I watch Rai stretch out his long, lean body and roll onto his back. I wonder what he is planning, but it gives me a moment to get myself together. With my legs folded underneath me this way, it’s hard to relax. Or maybe it’s my embarrassment that keeps me from relaxing completely. When I hear Rai sigh, the sound makes me shiver in anticipation. However, my body is already trembling, so perhaps he won't notice my response. His hand is no longer resting on me, his body no longer curled around mine, but didn’t he say I should stay just still? I try to obey.

If it pleases him, I will. I simply watch his movements, trying to get every aspect of my body under control—except for my tail, which is hopeless. It moves on its own accord, betraying my feelings in wild, swishing arcs. I suppose I can’t control the blush in my ears, either, though my face has cooled significantly. I also can’t control the desire in my hips—the blood pooling there, waiting, anticipating, longing to be touched, longing for connection. I’m restless.

My head is turned to the side, facing him, watching him, waiting, as he closes his eyes, looking peaceful. I slyly sweep my eyes down the entire length of his body and realize his lower half seems to be anticipating further action as much as mine is. This observation only adds to my own appetite. I take another deep breath, inhaling his scent. I _want_ to bury my face in his hair—but I don’t move. I just lie here, waiting.

“Siren,” his voice startles me, making me jump. I realize I’ve been staring at the outline of his cock through his breeches, and a flash of shame runs through me, so I drop my blushing face. “Meet my gaze.” I will _succeed_ in earning his trust tonight, for the love of the gods. I _refuse_ to be locked away for the rest of my life. I ignore my blush and meet his eye. “Tell me, what were you looking at?”

A disheartened sigh drops from my lips. This is going to be harder than I thought. “N-naturally, at you. I-I was looking at you. I o-only have eyes for y-you,” my voice stammers.  
  
He turns to me squarely. “You _know_ that’s _not_ what I’m asking. What _part_ of me were you looking at, just now? And _why_ did you look away so suddenly, when you heard my voice, blushing like this?” He reaches out to caress my ears with his last three words, emphasizing them and also causing more blood to rush into them.

He is going to make this as embarrassing as he can, isn’t he? But I will _not_ fail. Trying not to hesitate or stammer, I say boldly, “Your cock. I was looking at your cock.”

“So why did you look up with such embarrassment?”

I keep up my false boldness. “I was embarrassed that you caught me looking. I only meant to see if you were feeling as aroused as I am. Your eyes were shut, so I thought you wouldn’t notice or mind if I looked. When you caught me, _of_ course I was embarrassed.”

“Does it _embarrass_ you to look at my body? Do you find _me_ embarrassing?”

Another noise leaks out of my mouth, betraying the earlier boldness in my voice, but I quickly cover it up. “N-no. I’m just not used to interacting with others quite so… directly.”

“There is no need for embarrassment when you admire me, nor when I admire you. Go ahead and keep your blushing, if you like. It’s beautiful. It suits you, and I quite like it. But get rid of the shame. It’s useless and serves no purpose between us.” His voice is commanding. He is actually _commanding_ me not feel ashamed, and another shudder runs through me. This one feels like it reaches my brain. “This is your _purpose_ —well, one of them, and one of your gifts. Sex, I mean. Use it and be bold— _only_ with me. Be unashamed. And here I thought you were improving this week.” His words cause a small stinging sensation. I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or not. I _have_ gotten much better, _so_ much less embarrassed! Even now, I’m lying here naked, and I’m not trying to cover myself. Who is _he_ to suggest otherwise? These feelings are probably what cause my next outburst.

“I _have_ improved! I’m much less ashamed than I was only days ago!” I protest desperately.

“Oh? Shall we put it to a test, then?” Another shiver—my body’s nearly constant vibrations only increase my anticipation. His voice is making me feel almost drunk. “Why don’t you show yourself to me then? Show me how aroused you are, my brave, little Siren.” His voice sounds full of passion with not a trace of teasing.

For a moment, however, I don’t move from my spot—I hear that tiny sane voice in the back of my head screaming at me—and I’m not sure what to do. The last _four_ times I’ve tried moving he’s spanked me quite soundly. I timidly move one hand to cover myself—I'm still quite sore.

“You want me to move from here?” I verify his instructions, just to confirm.

“Yes, I do. I want you to _show_ yourself to me.” His voice is purring now, and he’s turned to his side, resting his head in the crook of his arm. He expects I won’t comply. But I _refuse_ to fail. I’m going to do _everything_ he asks, no matter how humiliating, and then later— _later_ —he will _pay_. I will _make_ him pay for every little thing he’s done to me in my own, subtle way.

 _That_ thought silences the quiet screaming in my mind. So I stretch my legs out behind me. It feels great to stretch. I feel an exciting, prickly sensation moving across my skin as I straighten my limbs. I make sure to arch my back a little, sticking my ass out more than usual, allowing my tail to wildly undulate without quashing its seductive movements. I roll my neck and shoulders, lifting up my chest and displaying my piercings while I do so. I stretch out my arms overhead, making myself as tall as I can, so he can see the subtle curving lines of my body—chest and torso, flat stomach, slim waist, wider hips, muscular thighs—all the while maintaining eye contact with his face. I watch his eye meander down my body.

Watching how his eye moves, I lean back against the wall and flatten my hands against my torso and chest—touching my nipples and piercings, playing with the chain with my fingers. I slip a finger into my mouth wantonly and trace the outline of my nipple, pulling on the ring, toying with it, looking at him under long lashes, never breaking eye contact. I run my hands down my sides—just like he does when he thinks me asleep—and I pay attention to the places _he_ pays special attention to—the dip of my waist and the curve of my hip. I imagine the sensations are coming from his fingers, which arouses me even further. I even let him see me caress my own still-sore ass.

I know he can see my entire body from where he is sitting, and I am completely naked. Of _course_ , I’m embarrassed—my cheeks are hot, and my ears must be redder than cherries. He is staring at my dick, and he watches it twitch when I touch myself, when I moan, and get even stiffer from playing with myself and fantasizing about him. I feel free to let any and _all_ sounds out of my mouth—almost to spite our interaction earlier: if he punished me for _not_ controlling my voice, I plan to _let it all out_ here. 

I roll my head back slightly and ask, “Oh, Rai—“ I make a deliberate attempt to purr his name before I continue. “Am I _still_ supposed to be controlling my voice? Because there’s no _way_ I can do that when you’re _looking_ at me like this, asking me to _do_ things like this in _that_ voice. And _especially_ not—“ I interrupt myself with a small gasp, “when I’m imagining that it’s _your_ hands doing these things to me.”

“Konoe.” Finally— _my name_. He says my name. It makes me feel like a person again. Not only that, it affects me sexually. He’s heightened my own sexual awareness, just by uttering my name. I feel myself harden even more, and a few clear drops appear at my slit. I grab my dick and give it a firm stroke, using those drops as lubricant, sighing with pleasure—still pretending it’s _him_ touching me, it’s _him_ grabbing me, it’s _him_ stroking me. My knees are shaking with desire.

“ _Please_ ,” I hear myself beg. “Won’t you call my name again? I _love_  it when you say my name like that. Won’t you, _please_?” My voice sounded so powerful earlier, but calling my name has brought me to my knees, figuratively speaking.

“You’re doing very well, Konoe,” Rai’s voice comes out softly, gently, encouragingly—and it breaks my heart a little. He’s obliged my request, even with how much I disappointed him on deck. And when he praises me—gods. How I _want_ that encouragement, how I _want_ those soft and gentle words from him—it almost hurts. He speaks again, softly, “Undress me.”

I leap on top of him in an instant, my hands in his hair, on his body, about to kiss him—I want to _touch_ him, I _need_ to touch him—and he holds up one hand, using the other to stop both of mine. “Use only your mouth.”

What? My _mouth_? How? What is this? My body starts to shake.

“Keep your hands behind your back, as though they are restrained. I could restrain them for you, but that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. I can touch you, of course; but the only part of you that can touch me is your mouth. Go on, now. Undress me.” He looks at me, eye full of passion, and again, I’m struck by how much self-control and patience he has.

“Ahh…“ The noise leaks from my mouth again—this is going to be torture. He is _torturing_ me. I feel tears pricking my eyes, but I still obey. I hold my hands behind my body as he commands, moving toward the top button of his breeches. I suppose I cheat a little, when I brush my nose against his abdomen, but I’m using my mouth, too. I just can’t help myself, really. And I’m shocked to feel his skin tremble beneath my lips. So I don’t pull away. I take my time, nuzzling that tempting,  fluffy fur just below his navel. I put my tongue in his belly button while I’m there, which draws some interesting sounds from him and makes him move my body rather suddenly, turning me around so my legs and hips are pointed in the opposite direction and also, I realize too late, within reach of his mouth.

I’ve never undone a button with my mouth before, but I give it my best effort. The results are less than graceful, but it involves me pushing my face into his crotch. Gods, he smells so _good_! I can feel how hard he is already. I can tell he wants me, and that only makes me harder.

His hands run over every part of my body they can reach, distracting me from my task. In fact, that long tongue of his shoots out against my legs, my thighs, and lightly brushes my dick—much to my frustration. He grooms my butt in long, slow strokes, concentrating on my sensitive sit spot, holding my thighs so I can’t squirm away. It must be nice to be tall like that, I think. How can he bend his body like that?

He may be trying to distract me, but I successfully manage the top button of his breeches and move to the next. Once I figure out the first one, I can get the subsequent buttons without much trouble. But how will the breeches slide off his hips? I try by rolling onto his side, and he turns with me, which gives me a little room to move.

Then, I notice the knee garters. Those will have to be unbuckled and loosened to slide over his shapely calves. I desperately try to keep my hands where they are, or use them only to support my body, and I hear him laugh.

The sound surprises me so much that I turn to look at him, down the length of my own body, meeting his gaze. He has a full smile on his face, and he seems to be enjoying himself immensely. “You’re surprisingly good with those sharp little teeth and your tongue, Siren. And you’re surprisingly game!”

“Hmmpf,” I mumble, my mouth full as I get to work on the garters, which loosen quite easily. I figure I might be able to trick him into helping me get him out of his clothes, and I get an idea.

As soon as the garters are undone, I peel off his hose—one stocking at a time—using my teeth. But he’s reluctant to release my body, so I don’t have as much wiggle room as I’d like. As soon as his legs are free from the stockings, I return my face to his crotch and start teasing—soft and light touches at first, around the base of his dick. I’m always surprised to I see him up close: his hair here is soft and silky, silver and furry—just like the fur on his tail—and I bury my nose in it while I lick him, softly purring. I know he can feel the vibrations of my purring right against his crotch. It’s _got_ to feel good.

“ _Oy_ , just a second,” I hear him protest behind me. “ _Not_ part of the current assignment—hey!—M- _move!_ —“ But I refuse to move. I know I said I’d obey, but _this_ is my method of taking off his breeches, so he has to allow it. I can’t move his body, so maybe he will lift up his hips for me himself?

And with my soft, teasing touches, and how my elbows have pinned the open breeches down against the bed, he _does_ start moving his hips, thrusting them up slightly—despite his protests. Looking down, I can even see his toes curling against the bed, and it sends a powerful jolt of pleasure through my body.

I get the fabric past his hips little by little. However, I don’t mind the work at all, as my body heats up fiercely. I run my tongue over his entire exposed hip bone—it’s smooth, pale, and slender—and I see him shudder and hear another yearning sigh. I feel a powerful feeling building up inside, when he suddenly grabs me from behind—knocking me off balance. I grunt as I fall to the bed.

“Oy!” I feel my body being turned around again, dragging against the sheets. “You’ve done an amazing job.” His praising words send waves of pleasure through me, and an unexpected sense of joy to my innermost being. _Why do I enjoy his praise so much? Isn’t this silly?_ “Who knew your tongue would be so agile? And that last move was pretty clever, too.” I’m right-side up again, next to his body, and I want to touch him with my hands. In fact, to my horror, I notice them reaching out, all on their own, against my will, and I fight to push them back to my side. “There’s a good boy! Watching you struggle against your instincts—especially when it’s an instinct to touch me—it is _exhilarating_.”

I’m not sure how I feel about his words, but then, his hands reach out to my face, touching both of my cheeks. He kisses me, gently at first. His mood has completely shifted from the growling, beast-like animal he was earlier—and I’m frightened to find myself a little disappointed. However, his lips are finally touching mine, and his tongue sweeps across my lips and my teeth. He deepens the kiss, and I have to struggle _desperately_ not to touch him back.

“Can’t,” I interrupt, trying to speak only when his lips pull away from mine, “I _please_ ,”—through another kiss—“touch you?” The desperation in my voice is clear.

“Oh, but you _are_ touching me,” Rai responds, as he pulls his lips away. He puts a finger against my mouth. “And you’re doing so _well,_ earning my trust and obeying my commands.” He’s slipped out of his breeches the rest of the way. His tail comes in handy for modesty. I realize he’s using it to cover himself. I look away again quickly.

His eyebrow quirks up immediately. “You did it _again_!”

“Wh-what?” I ask, pulling back from his arms, slightly afraid of his sudden outburst. “I didn’t do _anything_!” My voice is pleading.

Rai sighs, looking at me. “You should be more honest with yourself. You’re staring at me again, and the _moment_ you notice that I’ve seen you, you turn away. Why do you do this?”

“I…” My voice trails off, looking for a reason or even an excuse. Truthfully, I _was_ embarrassed. I don’t know what to say. “I really don’t know.”

“Don’t you realize that I’ve been watching _you_ , looking at you in the _same_ _way_ , this entire time? I just don’t flinch every time you see me doing it. Like now, for example.”

I watch Rai’s eye drift down to my cock, still hard and dripping, just from me undressing him. I try the same trick he does with his tail, but my tail is way too wild and flicks around way too much to be effective. I hear a small chuckle.

“I was wondering if I could get you to try that with your tail, too. It’s so cute—especially when your tail plays hide and seek with what you’re trying to hide.” I think I actually hear him _giggle_. _What the hell?_ Is he making _fun_ of me? I drop my eyes again.

Suddenly, he's on top of me, pinning me to the bed. His cheerful, laughing demeanor has vanished, and that aura of danger has returned.

“You’re looking away from me _again_. Don’t _do_ that. Do _not_ look away from me.” I desperately try to keep my eyes on him, but I’m terrified. I’m sure my pupils are wide, and my fur bristles. He settles down, on top of me, strategically resting most of his weight on my thighs. “ _This_ is what you will learn next.”

“Wh-what?” I tremble slightly.

“I want you to _look_ at me. I want you to _keep your eyes open_ and _on me_ , no matter what happens.”

I feel a flutter of fear in my chest—and the blossoming feeling I felt in my chest earlier, the thing that responded to his commanding tone of voice, it’s responding again, almost painfully, like it’s cracking open.

“Lie still.”

Each time his voice goes through my ears, I feel my insides melting a little a more—my insides even quiver—and that weird pain pulls through my stomach again. My breath is coming faster and harder, and I try not to pass out. I’m feeling rather desperate.

Sitting on top of me, he stares down into my eyes, drawing his claws and making my heart rate pound. He drags two claws, from both of his index fingers, along either side of my throat, down toward my belly, and he pulls hands away suddenly, making me gasp.

“ _Do not_ look away.”

I keep my eyes on him. He hooks his claws into the chain between my nipple and gives it a little tug. To my shock, an unimaginable pleasure ripples through in my body, and I lift my back off the bed, crying out loudly, “Rai!”

“Don’t close those eyes—keep them _open_. Be still.” His voice and those claws push me back down to the bed, and I swallow nervously.

One claw traces a line to my belly button with the other chasing, leaving a trail of pure pleasure in their wake. He doesn’t press hard enough to leave marks, but it’s nearly enough to scratch me. It makes my legs shake, my knees tremble, and leaves my tail quivering helplessly. But I’m proud I am able to keep my eyes on him as he commanded.

He grabs my tail suddenly, which makes me gasp again, pulling it slowly and gently at first, then giving it a little tug near the base—and another one of those trembling sighs leaks from my mouth. I can’t help it—the feeling is an indescribable pleasure. My body is _longing_ for him.

“Don’t close your eyes, Konoe. This is _me_ , giving you this pain, giving you this pleasure.”

The passion in his expression is undeniable. I can’t look away, though my entire body is now shaking beneath his touch. I can’t even tell if it's pain or pleasure. Especially when he pulls my tail again—this time _hard_ —and a moan comes from my lips. “Rai…”

He takes the tip of my tail and puts it in his mouth, and I succumb to pleasure once more, sinking in deeply—and he suddenly snaps, “ _Open your eyes!_ ” And they fly open wide at his command. I try to swallow as he licks my crooked tail, sucking on it, grooming it, _loving_ it, caring for it as though it were something _precious_ , all the while sending sweet delightful chills down my spine.

As soon as he releases my tail, I realize I’ve been making constant, loud, mewling sounds since now I’m quiet. I can feel myself blush at the realization. He lowers his claws to my body once more—tracing the same path he made earlier—one claw scraping down my torso to my belly, and the other following, while he watches my reaction.

My blush deepens—my ears are _burning_ —but _it feels so good._ And then his claws dips lower. I’m not sure I _want_ his claws on my dick! That voice in the back of my head is asking, _What’s happening to you? What’s wrong with you? Protect yourself!_  Then— _ba-bump!_ That blossoming sensation in my chest takes over, and my body gives a small jerk. I find myself looking _forward_ to the sensation, even if it’s painful. The feeling in my chest overpowers the voice in my head, and I lick my lips in anticipation.

I watch his face as his claw dips down, following the blonde trail below my belly button, all the way down to the hilt of my dick. I can feel how hard I am, and my stomach lurches painfully—again that pulling sensation—the feeling of being _too_ aroused for _too_ long without relief.

“ _Rai_ ,” my voice whispers. I’m almost hoarse now. “ _Please_.” I blink slowly. The desperation is approaching.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he returns with a growl, and I feel the hook of that sharp claw at my hilt. My knees bend and come up behind his back, my heels dig into the sheets, and my body stiffens. But I keep my eyes open. His pupil is wide. I’m fighting to keep my hands at my side, and I slide them under my butt, to keep them from moving.

I exhale a trembling breath. “ _Please_.” Something is changing inside me, and I’m afraid.

“Please, what?” His voice comes back teasing, though I can still hear a growl. “If you only beg, I won’t know what you want. What is it you want? What do you desire?”

“Please—“ I can’t help myself. I try again. “ _You_. I desire you.” I feel him stiffen against me, grabbing me tightly with his muscular legs, but he wants more from me.

“Well, you’re in luck, little one,” his voice purrs. “I’m right _here_. You _have_ me. Unless there’s something _else_ you want…?”

“Ah!” I cry, feeling his claws caress my shaft, it's gentle yet frightening at the same time, and abruptly, my terror evaporates into the blossoming desire in my chest. “ _You_ —I want you—your _body_ —your _soul_ —your _heart_ — _I want your everything_ —ah!” I almost scream when his claws caress me once more.

“Demanding, aren’t you?” His voice is like honey to my ears—in fact, he smells like honey, tastes like honey, sounds like honey— _I want him_ —and that blossoming thing is coming to life inside me. It feels different from a song, yet it _reminds_ me of a song. My breath comes harder still, burning inside my lungs.

“ _Not_ as a possession! _Use me_ as a Siren, use my _gifts_. Use me every day, every night—use my body, explore my body, make my gifts blossom. _You are the one I want to bring these gifts to light_. _Take_ me, _use_ me. Take _all_ of me!” I’m gasping for air as the words come spilling out. I don’t understand where the words are coming from or even whose words they are. “But in exchange, _I need you_. I need _connection_. I need _more_ from you. Your _trust_. Rai, I need your _love_.”

My eyes are on his, but I don’t recognize _any_ of words spilling from my mouth. They seem to express what I’m feeling, perhaps in a more extreme way than I would have phrased, of course. But I can’t stop myself from speaking, and more words are coming. I bring my hands up to my mouth, scooting off of them from where I had them pinned under my butt.

“Please, Rai—I can’t stop—“ I try covering my mouth, but the words keep coming. Some _other_ being is speaking, has taken over my mouth. _Let me speak!_ I think that’s the being whispering to me, in fact, and I’m in shock.

Rai gives me a confused look. He leans down slightly, as if he’s smelling my scent. “What are you saying? What’s happening to you?” He watches me, desperately shoving my hands away from my mouth.

“I can’t stop,” I try to explain, tears in my eyes. I want to tell him this _isn’t_ me, but it’s too late. He gently pulls my hands away from my mouth and brings them to his lips.

“I want to hear your voice _and_ these words. _Speak_.” He pops one of my fingers into his mouth.

After sighing in pleasure, the strange voice continues. “I am not your _possession_ , I am not a _thing_. I am a person—a person who is _dear_ to you, a person for whom your _heart_ has been searching the world over. A person who _loves_ you. A person who has your best interests at heart. _You must trust me, too_.”

“Konoe—“ Rai’s mouth falls open, and he releases my hands.

“I know you have a need to dominate this little one's body. It’s all right. But do _not_ mistreat him. This little one is beginning to understand his role, his importance to you, and he feels strongly for you. Don’t abuse him, or misuse his trust. Treat him well. Cherish him. Treat him like you would a lover. In fact, you must learn to _love_ him, Rai.” My words are so strange—as though I’m speaking about myself in the third person. And whose words are these?

Rai takes my hand once more, and rests it against his face. To my shock, I watch as my hands move up to the back of his head to untie his eyepatch. To my even greater shock, Rai allows this. I watch my hands float across his face and onto the previously covered eye. It is indeed an old wound—a single sharp cut from a claw, it seems, took his eye in one cruel slash, and the eyelid has healed unevenly—but he is beautiful. The loss makes his existing eye shine even more brightly, more intensely, more beautifully.

Tears flow from my eyes as I touch his wound. “You are beautiful. Even more beautiful than you were when I first met you.” My voice sounds so strange.

A stunned sound comes from Rai’s mouth, but he closes it, and the corners raise up in a small smile. “It _is_ you, then, isn’t it.” It’s not a question.

My hands pull his face close so I can kiss his eyelid—the missing eye—this part of him that he keeps hidden—and a pain like nothing I’ve ever felt pours into my chest. My body bursts into a sudden, quiet song. It’s mourning, I think, sadness. It’s the Siren, grieving Rai's physical pain, our separation, and our shared pain in being separated and alone—and then expressing heartfelt joy in our reunion.

“But you already _knew_ , Rai.” It’s as though the Siren is speaking directly to Rai, using my mouth. “No excuses. Do not mistreat this little one,” my lips whisper. It’s such a strange sensation. “I will give you anything your heart desires if you treat him well. I understand what you mean to do here, but please—don’t overdo it.”

To my utter shock, Rai melts into my arms. I feel him inhaling my scent right at my neck, and it tickles. His body relaxes, listening to the song, simply basking in my scent—and he is totally at ease. Well—except for his dick. His dick is still rock-hard, I have to admit. But we can deal with that in a moment. He never just lies in my arms like this, so I relax, too, just enjoying the feel of his body, the scent of him, just while my body finishes its song. We can fuck later. But for now—I just want to hold him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out WAY fluffier than I'd imagined, but I figured I'd just leave it like that. It's kinda fun, right?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai and Konoe make their way to visit Captain Mink on Midorijima, and the visit doesn't go quite as planned.
> 
> Warning: There's a punishment in this chapter--a spanking, and it's not a fun one.

We make landfall before the moon of light rises the next day. Rai is already awake and dressed and has a new outfit for me. The outfit is much less revealing than what I’ve been given to wear previously: short beige breeches (just like Rai’s) worn with hose, a fancy navy tailored dress coat (this also matches Rai’s uniform) with ivory and gold accents and a single button closure, a soft silk blouse with a low open collar (so low that it displays the gold chain across my piercings), tall soft leather black boots, and a small soft navy beret, which displays and even _accents_ my pierced ear.  How does he get these clothes to fit me so well?

Rai brushes out my hair and my fur before placing the beret on my head—and he also takes special care of the fur on my tail, fluffing it up fully. He feeds me a glass of catnip potion just before we leave and takes the bottle with him for good measure. Before we leave, he brings both swords and attaches them securely to their belts, then turns to examine me from head to toe.

“Irresistible. You look _irresistible_ ,” he says. “Maybe we ought to just stay on board today since we have the Joy _all_ to ourselves.” He gives me a wink. I look down at my feet before I can catch my habit, and then jerk my chin up just as I hear him “Tsk” at my response. My face is on fire. “Good job! You’re learning! I’m very proud of you.” His praise sends a little shiver down my spine. He leans down and kisses my mouth, and I feel a cool hand against my ears, which are burning in embarrassment. “Even more gorgeous. Stay pink, _just_ like this.”

Taking my hand, he pulls me out of the chamber, and we are on our way.

On deck, the weather is warm and humid, even though the moon of light has just risen. The sky is clear blue, not a cloud to be seen, and I hear gulls calling as I follow Rai. I try to keep my eyes glued to him or on the floor in front of me.

I try _not_ to meet the eyes of the crew. The last time they saw me, I was quite exposed, held down across Rai’s lap, being soundly thrashed with his belt. My ears stay pink with shame remembering the incident. Although, the crew doesn’t seem to share my embarrassment. Their curiosity is piqued. All eyes are watching, all ears tilted in my direction, possibly hoping for me to make another misstep and cause another scene. But that _won’t_ happen today.

The Siren _stood up for me_ last night. I know Rai heard his voice, and that he was moved. No apologies were made, but I didn’t feel any were necessary. But I do feel a new sense of trust between us, and that we’ve moved _on_ from that kind of punishment—

Rai leans down to whisper in my ear, “Are you distracted by all the activity, little one?”

I jump at the sound of his voice, spoken so suddenly and directly into my ear. I also notice several more crew members observing our interaction with interest. “Ah—um, no—er, perhaps. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the moon of light and so many people, and it’s such a nice day outside—“

“I understand,” Rai murmurs, so gently, so _understandingly_ , still right in my ear. “Just make sure you _don’t_ let go of my hand again in spite of your distraction. We aren’t even off the ship, and I nearly lost you.”

“Oh!” I just notice my hands are touching the railing, as I lean over the ship, looking toward the city. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—“ He snatches both my hands up in one of his.

“Do you think you can handle my request? Or do you require a leash? Because that can be arranged.” I feel his hand indicating the collar on my neck. “I just thought you’d prefer the dignity of holding my hand.” Rai touches my hands against the pocket of his breeches, giving it a small shake. I hear a jingle—he’s brought chain with him? It’s a _leash!_? My face immediately lights up in shame, but I meet his eyes with desperation, rather than looking away.

“ _Please_ —I’m sorry!” I beg. “I was just distracted for a moment!”

“Look at how well you’re meeting my eyes, Konoe. So direct! I’m _very_ pleased.” I blush more deeply at the sound of his praise, but I’m terrified he may still punish me in front of the crew.

Keeping my eyes glued to his face, ignoring the tears stinging the corners, I drop to my knees, and beg again, “ _Please_. I won’t let go again unless you specifically allow it. Please, don’t punish me. _Please_?”

I’m sure he can see the tears in my eyes. I don’t want to ruin such a wonderful day. The crew has stopped all activity and is watching me beg forgiveness with something like lust in their eyes. I can almost hear their lewd thoughts out loud—how they’d _love_ to have me on my knees in front of _them_ , begging for _their_ forgiveness.

I’m rather surprised at Rai’s reaction. He actually looks _away_ , seemingly embarrassed, or possibly even ashamed. Did he _want_ to punish me? I wonder. Perhaps he was embarrassed by his desire to see me humiliated in front of his crew?

“Siren, get to your feet. Your breeches are too light in color to kneel on deck for long. I run a clean, tight ship, but not _that_ clean. Come. Kiss me, and you shall have my forgiveness.”

Shit, he’s in a good mood today. And man, do I give it my _all_! I’ll be making this kiss worth his while—and worth the crew’s while as well. I throw my entire body into the kiss, reaching up to his face and pulling him toward me. Then, once our lips touch, I open my mouth, and my tongue is the first to tangle with his while I press the entire height of my body against his usually-unyielding form. But his body melts just a little for me, making space for me, I’m grateful to see and feel. We fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

I feel and hear a soft, gentle melody squeeze from my chest while kissing him—it sounds sexy and grateful at the same time. But mostly, the song doesn't have to do with punishment, and it says, “This silver cat is _mine_. He may _think_ I’m his, but he is _mistaken_. _He is mine.”_

Rai is taken aback slightly by the strength I put behind the kiss and has to take a step backward to catch my weight, but he responds the way I want him to. I believe he’s stunned at the song, too, and he _loves_ it—I feel his hands in my hair, on my back, pulling me in closer. I heard a possessive purring growl coming from his body, which increases the volume of my song. As far as the crew goes, well, my pink ears twitch from the wild cheering surrounding us on deck. I was hoping they wouldn’t insist on another punishment, and they don’t. They seem pleased with the kiss.

After relaxing into Rai’s arms for a few moments, I realize it’s been too long, and we need to get moving. Reluctantly, Rai pulls away, and whispers, right into my ear, “You have my forgiveness—but _don’t_ let it happen again, or you will suffer the consequences. Remember, holding on to me is for _your_ safety.”

“Thank you, Captain.” I look up at him again, tears still sparkling in my eyes, but I’m smiling. I’m happy. This will be a _great_ day. I can’t hide my excitement.

I wait patiently as he goes over a few minor issues with the crew, and Bardo and Ciel come up on deck. Bardo whistles at me appreciatively, and I shyly hide behind Rai. Rai looks up in irritation—at Bardo, fortunately, not at me—who says as an excuse, “But he looks so handsome—that outfit is adorable, and look at his fur! Konoe, you're positively glowing!”

To my chagrin, he approaches with Ciel in tow. Ciel is similarly attached to Bardo, hanging on to his coat, and he gives me a shy smile. He looks really happy. The words fall out of my mouth, unexpectedly.

“Ciel, you look _so_ happy. Your fur is shining, your eyes are sparkling. You’re full of joy. I’m so happy for you. My heart is happy for you.” The way I’m speaking sounds like the Siren’s voice. Ciel gives me a small blush, nodding.

“I believe it’s all thanks to you, in fact. Bardo said you begged him to get me out of the brig when you were first brought upstairs. I thank you for that.” 

Bardo is just staring at me. “Little one, just be _sure_ you keep your hands on your master at all times. I can’t _believe_ he’s taking you with him. I can _still_ smell that inviting scent of yours. If he wants to attach that chain to your collar, let him do it. It will be for your safety—not for anything else. Don’t worry. I know he has a few seedy places he needs to visit, and if he deems it safer for you to wear that chain, _don’t_ fight him on it, even if it’s uncomfortable or humiliating.”

“All right,” I answer. “Where are you two going?”

“Restocking supplies, farmers markets, errands.” Bardo glances to Ciel. “We may spend the night at an onsen if Ciel does a good enough job today.”

“An onsen?” I ask.

“It’s a hotel with hot springs and baths as part of its attraction. This port has many of them—lots of natural hot springs. You can soak and heal your body in the water. It will be especially beneficial for Ciel—or for you, for that matter.”  
  
“Bardo!” Ciel snaps. “That’s _enough_. Please don’t mind him, Konoe. He gets a kick out of saying embarrassing things every chance he gets.” He smiles kindly at me.

“It’s true, though. Great for achy muscles, or you know, those parts of you that haven’t been used much before fairly recently. Ask Rai—perhaps he’ll allow you to join us later!”

“Thank you,” I respond, shyly. I’m not sure what it is about this cat—Bardo is always so forward. He embarrasses me, and he seems to enjoy my embarrassment as well. I watch Bardo and Ciel walk down the gangplank together, Ciel happily slipping his arm into the crook of Bardo’s. It touches my heart to see their public display of affection, as subtle as it is.

Before I know it, Rai has finished his conversation with the crew on deck and is pulling me toward the gangplank as well. My heart starts to flutter when he pulls my hand, and I too slip my hand into the crook of his arm. Rai’s eyes slip toward my face to see what I’m up to—I hope I’m not being too familiar. Technically, he still believes he _owns_ me. I shouldn’t be acting on my own too much. And he asked me to hold his hand. This is his _arm_. Does this displease him? It’s a more intimate gesture.

I return his gaze, and I wave toward the port. “I saw all the cats, and there are so many! I’ve never seen so many all at once. I’m overwhelmed. I’d rather stay closer to you. Is this OK?”

“It is,” Rai says gently. “I’m just a little surprised. You’re just usually more reserved and independent. I was only caught off guard by your actions.” He pauses a moment, taking my chin in his hand, examining my face. “You wouldn’t feel more secure if I attached the chain to your collar, would you? Not because I don’t trust you, you understand. You earned my trust last night. It would be an additional demonstration of your status as _mine._  And in case we were separated by the crowd, I could find you much more easily. I’m asking your _preference_ right now, little one.”

I consider his offer, and I understand what he is saying. If others saw us walking like this, we might look like lovers. But with the chain—I’m sure I’d be safer. I don't think I'll like wearing a leash in public, but I am a little nervous. Looking toward to port, I’m truly overwhelmed by the number of cats I see out there, and I feel a shiver of fear going through my body. I hate to ask for it because it seems so humiliating.

“Please,” I say, dropping my eyes in embarrassment, despite our agreement not to be ashamed in front of each other. “I think the chain might make me feel more comfortable in this case.”

“Of course.” His voice is kind and gentle. Removing the chain from his pocket, he attaches one end to my collar, and the other to his wrist. “I feel a little more secure this way, too.” He cups my face in his hands, landing quick kisses on both of my cheeks.

I look around and realize we’ve become quite the spectacle. _No_ one is working. Everyone is watching. Rai turns to them and, using that sharp captain’s voice of his, he barks, “Get back to work!” We walk down the gangplank to the dock.

“Our first stop will be a meeting. We’re meeting a fellow captain at a local bar. You’ll need to just bear with it. I don’t think you’ll like him. He’s a little unpleasant. However, in my position, you’ll never know when you need allies. So when other rogue ship captains request meetings, it’s foolish to turn them down. He may have information I need.”  
  
Glancing my way as we walk, “Additionally, I’d like to introduce you. He knows I’ve been searching for you for years.”

The streets are crowded with cats as we move from the docks into the city. I’m still completely overwhelmed with the number of cats I see—everywhere I look there are more cats. Rai was right about the technology. Midorijima looks nothing like I’ve ever seen before. There are glowing lights in the shop windows that look _nothing_ like the lamps I’ve seen in Sisa. I stare at them in wonder as we walk past, being sure to keep my arm hooked in Rai’s.

He smiles at my wonder. “Electricity,” he explains.

“Like static electricity?” I’m confused.

“No,” he continues. “This city—no, the entire island—has harnessed the power of electricity, like the kind from lightning.”  
  
In awe, I can’t keep a stupid-sounding noise coming from my lips.

“They’ve figured out how to harness it and store it within the walls, and even lights and appliances use it, similar to Two Canes’ use of power. I wonder if they have help with books from the ancient world or perhaps a more sinister source. But it has helped their trade. They can work day and night since the lighting is so bright.”  
  
“I see.” I’m quite amazed. 

“Production and quality of life have also improved here as well, which is a good thing, overall.”

I stick very close to Rai, probably closer than I need to, trying to keep in step with his long strides, trying not to annoy him. I’m a little frightened by everything I see.

I’ve seen several slave owners, one who is _awfully_ cruel to his slaves. He has five cats in tow, limping behind him slowly, chained hands and feet, barely able to walk. It looks like one had fallen, and he is beating him severely with a cane.

I flinch in sympathetic pain, and I feel a hand come down over my eyes. It’s Rai’s. “You don’t need to watch. Just keep walking. I’ll guide you.”  
  
My ears twitch at the horrible sound of the owner’s cane hitting the slave’s body, over and over, and the slave crying out in pain. “I cannot interfere. I do not have authority in this country, little one. I’m sorry.”

I feel tears in my eyes, and I feel Rai wipe away my tears. We have arrived in front of a rather seedy-looking bar. Before entering, Rai faces me squarely.

“Before we go in, a few things you should know. Mink is cruel. He may try to do something to get a rise out of you or try to get you to do something that will make you want to disobey me. _Don’t be tempted._ Keep your eyes and ears on me. I have to maintain my authority in front of him, and I won’t hesitate to keep you in line. Do you understand?

I nod.

“How about a _vocal_ response, kitten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” As usual, his praise, even that tiny little remark, gives me goosebumps. I _love_ hearing it. It makes me a little irritated, actually. “Remember— _you belong to me_.”

I drop my eyes to his hand, watching him extend his index finger, drawing a claw toward my chest. I inhale sharply, remembering the claw play from last night—I can’t help it—I know he’s provoking me with this action—causing a flush to rise in my face and sweat to burst out on my skin. His claw extends toward the exposed bit of chain connecting my nipple piercings, and he hooks the claw underneath it.

“ _Mine,_ ” his voice purrs softly, and he gives the chain a _very_ slight, _very_ gentle tug. But even that tiny gesture makes my body react—even here, in public. I vocalize my pleasure audibly, turning several heads in my direction. My dick springs to attention. A shiver of anticipation runs over my body, all the way up my tail, which restlessly whips side to side. My ears feel hot and must be hot pink and filled with blood as well.

Part of me is _terribly_ annoyed that he can elicit this instant response from my body when he does something so small. Even my breath is coming harder, and I can’t control myself. I remember trying to get myself under control last night and being unable to—and the _feel_ of his claws against my bare skin—even though I’m standing here with him in a public space—and my blush deepens. _Why am I acting like this? What is wrong with me?_

He looks at my response and is _incredibly_ pleased. This is the response he wanted. He runs his hands through my hair, touching my ears, giving the ring in my ear a tiny little tug with his claw as well, as though I need reminding a _second_ time. I desperately try to ignore it—but I can’t.

Blushing fiercely, I aim a pointed look in his direction, and he smiles. “ _Perfect_ ,” his voice growls lowly, his face in my hair. “Ah—you smell so good. Just how I like you. Let’s go.” 

He pulls me along, jingling my chain as he pushes the door open. I wonder if he’s done that to make my scent increase because when we enter the bar, every eye looks up—looking at both of us. Well, actually, they are staring at _me_. I look away and keep my eyes on Rai, following him in, ignoring every stare. I’m flustered, quite frankly.

As we walk, I realize Rai is _deliberately_ jingling my chain, which draws even more attention. It’s as if he _wants_ to draw eyes to me, as if he _wants_ people to see me. He wants the other patrons in the bar to see him enter, striding in at his full height, in full dress uniform, with me, his _slave_ , at his side. I wonder if he is proud of me, and is showing me off. It sure feels like that what he’s doing. I feel like he deliberately got me worked up before we entered the bar, so other patrons would smell my scent, and be tempted, when I entered.

Isn’t this what he warned me about while we were above deck the other night? I’m a little surprised at his actions, but I remain at his side, my eyes on him.

Until—well, until a surprising scent hits _my_ nose.

It’s unexpected, and _completely_ out of place here in this bar. I feel like I may be the _only_ one who senses it, because looking at Rai, he hasn’t noticed. My ears perk up, and my eyes briefly scan the area, searching for the source. It smells like _home_. There’s no other way to describe it. Even _more_ than Rai ever has. It isn’t the same “connection” that Rai has for me. This scent—it’s much older. It’s _my home_. But _not_ Karou, _not_ my mother, much _older_ than that. Much _stranger_ than that.

My eyes come to rest on a couple sitting in the corner of the bar—and it’s almost as if the source is glowing, in my eyes. My heart skips a beat. I feel like _I know him_. My heart lifts out of my chest strangely.

When we approach the table—the glowing cat struggles to his feet. I look at Rai, and he still doesn’t notice anything out of place. But the glowing cat—strange blue hair, blue ears, a blue tail, and _beautiful_ amber eyes, _he notices_. Does he have the same sensation as I do?

When our eyes meet, he leans across the table with a start. I see he is connected with a metal chain to the cat next to him, and the cat next to him grabs his arm harshly when he stands up. I flinch when I see his arm being grabbed like that—and I actually _feel_ pain in my arm, in the _exact_ place where the blue cat’s arm was grabbed so roughly, and a small pained cry comes from my mouth. 

Rai looks at me in surprise. The blue cat looks at me with recognition in his eyes, and offers me a warm smile, though he is pulled back down roughly to his seat. He says in a small voice, “It’s _you_. You are...”

At the same time, I answer, “ _I know you_.”

The blue cat’s master is glaring at Rai, then looks at me sharply. His gaze feels like a cold glass of water poured over my skin. I can feel his cruelty in his eyes. He examines me—looking at my body—from my ears to my tail—as though I were nude. I shiver in spite of myself. Is this the man Rai was planning to meet? The fellow captain? I feel _immediate_ dislike for him because of his treatment of his companion—who is... who is... my brother? No! He’s a fellow _Siren_.

“You are _like me_!” I exclaim, trying to keep my voice low, and I reach out the hand that has not been gripping Rai's arm till the knuckles turn white. His hand mirrors my actions in a spooky reciprocal gesture, and we touch fingertips. I feel a strange buzzing sensation when we touch. He offers an apologetic smile in response, and briefly hooks his fingers through mine before quickly dropping his hand back under the table, fearful of offending his master or mine.

The blue cat before me—his skin is _very_ pale—much paler than my own, almost sallow—as though he rarely sees the light of day. He also has a pierced ear and wears a collar. He has cuffs with chains binding his hands together and then to his master. He also has chains between his feet. It must be noisy when he walks, I think. I see the skin on his wrist is bruised, just before he drops his hand back to his side, and there is bruising around his neck, too. I’m shocked. I look at his face again, and his lip looks swollen. Now that I look more closely, it’s possible his left eye socket is swollen as well. Has he been in a fight? Why hasn’t his master _protected_ him?

Then, I look to his master, who yanked his chains so roughly, forcing him to sit down. The blue cat’s face is pointed toward the floor, currently in an obedient stance. But I see him swiftly moving his eyes up to look at me occasionally, showing much interest, trying to make eye contact. But each time he tilts up his face, his master yanks his chain again, forcing him to look down toward the floor.

“Aoba, are you _trying_ to annoy me? You _know_ the rules.” The blue cat’s master speaks.

“No, sir.” His voice is soft and fearful, full of desperation.

“Captain Rai, nice to see you again. Thanks for meeting me. Allow me to introduce you. This is Aoba, the item of interest I mentioned in my last letter.” The blue cat’s master has a hard voice, gravelly and rough, and it sounds unpleasant to my ears. An "item of interest"? He called the Siren an item!

“Nice to meet you, Aoba. Are you also a Siren? Captain Mink, it’s nice to see you, too. Let me introduce you to Konoe. He’s the one I’ve been searching for all these years.” Rai’s voice is even and calm, and he shows little surprise in meeting another Siren.

Aoba dips his head in an even lower bow, keeping his eyes down for the most part, but he can’t help his curiosity, any more than I could in his position. He glances up at Rai occasionally, wondering what kind of a captain he is, and what kind of master he is. He tries to watch our interactions while keeping his face turned toward the floor.

“He is indeed a Siren,” Mink continues. I stare at the large cat. Mink has dark red hair, styled just how I’d imagine a pirate’s hair: messy, tangled dreadlocks all the way down his back. He wears a long dark coat and oversized iron cuffs on his wrists that attach to Aoba’s chains. His boots are tipped with steel and spiked. He carries a single large rapier with him, low on his hip. 

Strangely, a gorgeous bird is perched on his shoulder. I am fascinated by this bird. At first, I can’t tell if the bird is real or not. It’s white and pink, standing as tall as my knee. I suppose it looks like it a cockatoo, only much larger. The bird is wearing jewelry and an eyepatch, which I think is too cute for words. With the eyepatch, it reminds me of Rai.

“What a beautiful bird,” I remark quietly. How can such a rough-looking cat keep such a beautiful bird?

“Beautiful and vicious,” Rai warns. “Tori will bite you if you get too close, so keep your pretty ears and fingers away from him.”

“So, Konoe—he is a Siren?” Mink stands up. “Please, join us. Pardon my rudeness. I was just shocked to see that you’ve found him already. I’m truly happy for you. Have a seat. Celebrate.” He gestures at the seats before them, pouring out two more glasses of ale from the pitcher he is enjoying. Aoba doesn’t have a glass or a plate.

I can’t tell if he’s being sincere or not in expressing his happiness, but I follow suit and sit next to Rai. As soon as I sit, Rai pulls my chair up close to his, so our thighs are touching. I love the feeling. Feeling his face nuzzle my ear, I hear him whisper, “You can let go of my arm now, if you’d like. Have something to eat and drink.”

My body gives a small shiver when he licks my ear—I’m sure it’s visible to Mink and Aoba across the table—and I feel my face flush. I make a small protesting noise and put the glass of ale to my mouth when I hear him chuckle.

“He is. He’s the one and the same Siren I’ve been looking for all these years. And Mink, it seems you’ve found one of your own.” Rai looks at Aoba with genuine interest. “Aoba, are you from Midorijima? Is this your home? What’s your story?”

Aoba looks to Rai with hope in his eyes, but before he opens his mouth, he looks at Mink. Mink answers in his place. “Aoba is from here, but his story is of no interest. He didn’t even know he was a Siren, in fact. He had a relatively normal life here when I discovered him.”

“What about your family?” Rai is still addressing Aoba. I confess I want to hear Aoba’s voice again if he is a Siren. But Mink isn’t permitting him to speak.

“He has no living relatives. What about yours? Any living relatives to speak of?”

“Actually, none that we know of.”

“It’s odd. I think there may be an untapped market for Sirens. Perhaps we could chat a little about it later at some point, but I’ve realized that my Siren has some really attractive qualities. I’d like to try breeding Aoba.”

I’m shocked to hear this, but I don’t make a sound. I act like I’m not paying attention to the conversation. I steal a small glance at Aoba, who looks down at the floor, expressionless.

“Breeding?” Rai asks.

“Oh, yes. I’ve found several capable females already, and all that’s left is to have him impregnate them. I just am not _positive_  that’s how the Siren’s gifts are passed on, I suppose. I haven’t been able to discover that’s how it works in any of the books I’ve read. Plus, from what I have found so far, it’s difficult to get Sirens to mate.”

“Have you,” Rai’s not-question continues to carry the conversation. My master does _not_ sound pleased. Mink’s business plan is _terrifying_. Is this what Aoba wants? I look at him, and he is staring at his hands, not eating, not drinking. What is he to Mink? This is what a _slave_ is. This is what _property_ looks like. I’m horrified. Chills crawl up my spine.

“I was hoping you might have some advice for me. Perhaps, you might lend me your Siren for studding purposes, or he may be able to assist Aoba in his task. I’d be happy to share a portion of the profits, or provide you a back-up for your own personal use if you prefer.”

Back-up? Does he mean—if he “bred” me—is he talking about my _child_? Oh, my gods. I feel sick to my stomach and as delicious as the food is, I can’t eat another bite. I am utterly disgusted.

“Captain Mink,” Rai says, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. “As usual, I can count on you for the most _interesting_ business ventures.” Mink smiles broadly in response. “I appreciate you considering me, as well as your offer. But at least for now, I’ll have to decline. I have no need for a back-up. The relationship I share with my Siren is quite a bit different from master and slave. And you’ve known me a _long_ time now. You should know that I don’t share.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be _sharing_ so much as it would be _borrowing_. Especially if you _don’t_ have such a relationship with your Siren, don’t you think he might appreciate leaving his gifts for the next generation, rather than being stuck with you for the rest of his life, where he has no hope of ever being a father? No heir to succeed him? Surely, that can’t be right.”

“Well, should my Siren _ever_ be concerned about leaving his gifts to an heir, I’ll be sure to let you know immediately. I’d _never_  even consider anyone else, Mink.” Rai gives him a smile. “Will your ship be in a port for the next few days, or are you going out to sea shortly?”

“We are in port for another two or three days, and then we sail to Sisa. What about you?”

“We just came from there, so we are here to resupply. Having been at sea for weeks, I’m thinking of lengthening the port stay to a week or longer for the sake of my crew. It’s been a rough few weeks for them.”

I’ve been observing Aoba closely. I reach out underneath the table and take his hand. I want so much to comfort him. It pains me to see him suffering. He seems to be in terrible pain, and not _just_ at Mink’s hand. He seems to be at a loss—he has lost love, I think—and it pains me. I want to ask, but I don’t know how.

When our fingers touch, I feel that electrical charge run through me once more, and he jumps slightly, catching his master’s attention. He is sure to keep his eyes down when Mink looks sharply in his direction. I offer him some food from my plate, and he gratefully takes a bite. He looks ravenous—starving in fact. That pains me, too.

He needs to leave Mink’s care. Mink _isn’t_ caring for him.

“What do you think you’re _doing_?” Mink’s voice comes booming across the table when he watches Aoba take a bite of bread. I drop the bread back onto the plate in surprise. I didn’t mean to get anyone in trouble, and my ears turn bright red. But I don’t want that terrifying cat yelling at me. I shrink against Rai immediately. It takes a moment to realize Mink is rebuking Aoba.

“Th-the food was o-offered to me,” Aoba explains quietly. “Isn’t that ok? W-wouldn’t it b-be rude to d-decline?” His body starts to shake, nearly imperceptibly.

“You know the rules,” Mink states harshly. “Tell them to me.”

“Eyes down. No eating or drinking without your permission. Behave myself. No speaking unless you ask a direct question.” I hear tears in Aoba’s voice.

“And if you disobey?”

“I’m to be punished.” His voice is completely resigned. He has no fight, no spirit, almost no will to live left. It makes me want to cry. He hangs his head.

“Do you care to explain?”

“I didn’t want to be rude to your guests. The Siren fed me, and I thought it would be rude to decline. And I _am_ very hungry—”

“Shut up!” Mink shouts, and he smacks Aoba right in the face, while we are sitting here at the table.

I’ve never seen anyone hit like that up close, and it shocks me. I turn my head against Rai’s shoulder, and he puts his hand against the back of my head and holds me there.

“Since your Siren is partly the _cause_ of this, don’t you think he ought to at least _watch_ this punishment, Rai?” Mink’s voice sounds cruel and mean.

 “My Siren was being _kind_. Aoba looks skinny and underfed to me. _I_ was about to offer him a meal myself. He probably won’t breed because he’s too hungry, Mink. For gods’ sake, you need a full stomach before you can even think of anything else—those are the _basics_!” Rai’s tone is disgusted. “Can’t you let this go or save it for when you get home?” 

“I run a tight ship. I can’t be slacking off just because someone else’s _undisciplined_ _slave_ interferes with _my_ discipline. You do what _you_ like, but we enforce the rules on board my ship,” he says rather pompously. He barks at Aoba, “Get over here, brat! You know what to do.”

Hanging his head and seeming to shrink in size, the blue-haired cat crawls over to Mink and drapes himself across his lap. Mink has turned his chair away from the table to give himself more room. My own body is covered in sweat, and I feel Aoba’s shame—but he doesn’t show any shame at all.

“Go on,” Mink commands. “You haven’t properly prepared yourself.”

I’m shocked as Aoba stands up with a sigh, unbuckles his belt, and pulls both his pants and underwear to his knees. He drapes himself back over Mink’s lap and holds tightly to the legs of the chair. My body starts to shake with fear and anxiety, even despite Aoba’s listless face.

I watch as Mink rubs an open palm over his full, round bottom. I wonder if this is what _I_ looked like when Rai spanked me—and suddenly I realize I am feeling sensation on my _own_ ass. It’s slight, but I’m feeling sympathetic sensation. I can feel Mink’s rough, flat palm on my own ass, and it’s a _total_ violation. I _hate_ it. I start to squirm uncomfortably. If I can feel this, does this mean I’m also going to be able to feel it when he spanks him, too? My stomach lurches.

Rai looks down at my stiffening, uncomfortable body, wondering at my reaction. “Close your eyes, little one, if you don’t want to see,” he whispers. “Remember, I cannot interfere.”

Suddenly, Mink’s hand comes down, slapping Aoba’s ass. It makes a loud noise in the bar, yet Aoba doesn’t make a sound. All eyes turn to him, and to his ass, when that slap resounds in the bar. It looks pretty amazing, and Mink is doing it to get attention, I’m sure. And oh, _gods_ , does it hurt! It burns like _hell_ —and I flinch in pain.

But how would I explain it? It’s sympathetic pain. I don’t know what to do. I feel tears coming, and I press my face against Rai’s chest and jump at the next slap, too. I can feel it even if I don’t look! Rai rubs my back, but I flinch again and again. Mink seems to notice something is wrong as well but doesn’t stop the punishment either. He continues—and it’s hard—harder than Rai’s—and Aoba doesn’t make a single peep.

It’s part of the rules. He isn’t allowed to make a sound. And he obeys. I see him crying quietly, however. And so am I.

After about the twentieth slap, I start begging quietly.

“Please—“

I don’t think Rai hears me at first.

“Please stop, _please_ —“ And like a mantra or a prayer, I keep repeating it. It’s _my_ fault Aoba is being punished. I shouldn’t have offered him food from my plate. I didn’t know he wasn’t allowed to eat. I _deserve_ this punishment. I _deserve_ this pain. “ _Please_ —“

I feel Rai’s hands in my hair, and he is shushing me. “Calm yourself, little one.”

“I c-can’t—“ I barely can say, my breaths being taken away in between the blows. I feel each blow even harder than the last. “I’m feeling it—this punishment—“ I say the words very quietly, my breath hitching between the blows.

Suddenly, Rai stands up, banging both fists on the table and says, “Mink! _Enough_!”

Mink looks up, stopping what he’s doing, running his hand over Aoba’s ass again.

“There’s too much we don’t understand about the nature of Sirens, and you need to stop now! _My_ Siren is suffering from _your_ Siren’s punishment! _That’s enough_.”

He pulls me up to stand, and I whimper. He turns me around, unbuttons my breeches and pulls them down, much to my embarrassment. He gives a growl of anger when he sees red handprints— _Mink’s_ handprints—on my ass.

“Do you care to _explain_ this?” Rai asks Mink, showing off my reddened ass. I’ve never heard Rai’s voice so filled with rage. “What the _fuck_!”

I’m embarrassed, but I feel lightheaded and find it hard to breathe. Even though I just ate, I’m hungry and not feeling right. I’m feeling terribly unlike myself. I try to warn Rai. “Rai— _please_ —help me—I’m not feeling well.”

He quickly pulls my breeches up, and I realize Rai’s face looks paler than usual, too. Sweat beads on his forehead and he sways slightly. “Sit down, little one,” he speaks gently, pushing me back to my seat. I look into his face, worried.

“Rai—“ I’m worried. “You don’t look well. Are you perhaps...?” I can’t finish my thought. As my butt hits the seat of the chair, my vision starts to blur, and gray overtakes the edges of my vision. I feel sick to my stomach.

I hear Rai growling, just before my ears feel as though they are closing off from reality. The room starts to spin, and I hear a loud sound as my head crashes against the table. I’ve lost all power in my body. _What is happening to me?_

I feel a soft hand—small soft fingers closing around mine comfortingly. The fingers belong to Aoba. He doesn’t speak, but he holds my hand as I lose consciousness. Also, I still hear my master growling as the room fades to black. The comforting strokes of Aoba’s small, soft fingers against my hand make me feel a little calmer, but hearing Rai growl like that— _what is wrong?_ Why is he so unhappy? It isn’t possible he could also be ill, is it?

My eyelids get too heavy, and I lose my desperate fight to keep them open. They drift close, and I float away into complete darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes up in Aoba's room. He gets to know Aoba and his current, rather unpleasant living situation with Mink.

When I next wake, I find myself on the floor in the dark, in an empty, humid, dirty room. There are no windows, and the only light is a small sliver leaking under the door. It takes me a moment to collect myself and remember what happened. In fact, I have _no_ recollection of what happened.

The last thing I remember was walking into a bar with Rai. And then what? My head is throbbing in pain, and I’m so thirsty. I push myself to my feet, hoping to try the door, or feel around for some water when I suddenly sense the presence of another cat. I don’t quite make it to standing—my legs aren’t steady enough to take my weight, and I find myself back on my hands and knees.

“Konoe, you are awake! I’m so glad. Are you injured? Do you hurt anywhere?” The voice is soft, light, and sounds very young. Unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar at the same time. _Whose is it?_

“Where am I? What happened? Who are you? How did I get here?” I sit up, my head pounding loudly in my ears. “Where is Rai?” I look around. I’ve been separated from my master, though I feel the chains are attached to my wrist. “ _Where is Rai?!_ ” My voice rises, and I try not to panic.

“Shh!” The voice whispers back in the dark. “You are going to be OK. I’m sure the drugs Mink used in the ale caused a bit of temporary amnesia. Your memories will return in a few moments. I’m Aoba, Captain Mink’s Siren. You and Captain Rai met us in the bar, remember?” I can tell he is approaching me from the sounds of heavy chains getting closer.

“Yes, but what _happened_?” I realize my ass is incredibly sore, too. What the _hell_ happened to me? I’m still dressed, but I feel filthy. “Where are we?”

“We are in my room,” Aoba’s voice sounds gloomy. “Mink drugged you both. When your ship came into port yesterday, he heard Rai had also located a Siren. He has been eager to get his hands on you. He didn’t think Rai would let you come along willingly.”

“Wait— _what_?” I try looking around, widening my eyes. “This is your _room_?” A sense of utter despair comes over me, down to the depths of my being. “You _live_ here?”

“Yes. I think at least for the past four months or so. It’s very hard to tell time. Mink doesn’t keep me in here _all_ the time, of course. But when I’m not being used, this is where he keeps me.”

“Aoba...” Tears well up in my eyes.

“Konoe, you’re a slave, too. I _saw_ your ear piercing. Plus, you even have the nipple piercings as well— _both_  are pierced. Mink told me they did that in Sisa, and has been threatening to do it to me as a punishment. Didn’t your master give those to you to mark you as his property? Wasn’t that excruciating?”

“Well, yes, but—“

“Then he displays them with revealing clothing. Your status is _no_ different from mine.” His voice is filled with bitterness. “I have nothing to live for anyway. Mink has taken _everything_ from me. He has _destroyed_ everyone I’ve ever loved.”

“Aoba...” My heart breaks for him. I reach my hand out to try to comfort him, but he snatches his hand away.

“What are you _doing_? Is this _pity_? Do you _pity_ me?” I hear the sound of heavy chains dragging across the floor, but I can’t see him moving. My eyes have not yet adjusted to the dark. I feel like a pathetic excuse for a cat—I have no sense of direction, nor can I see in the dark. It takes my eyes much longer than other cats to see in dark places.

“No—it isn't!” I exclaim. “It’s _not_ pity!” I want to explain the feelings pulling in my chest, trying to quell the anger emanating from the creature in the room with me.

“I _know_ your owner uses you. I could  _smell_ him all over you—and _you_ all over _him_ —when he hauled you into that bar, on display like a prize horse. He probably did something to you just before to get your scent worked up like that, didn’t he? Worse, you have misguided _feelings_ for him. You think you _love_ him, you fool. It’s _pathetic_! What’s _wrong_ with you? He _uses_ your body, _abuses_ your gifts, keeps you locked up like a _slave_ , treats you like a _possession_ , and _you love him_? You’re deluding yourself.”

“Stop!” I say, reaching out into the darkness, trying to touch him. I _need_ to reach this desperate and sad creature. He’s been suffering alone, starving for food, attention, and kindness, for months. My tears overflow, and they silently slip down my cheek. I sense something in front of me, and I reach out again.

The same electrical shock, a little more familiar, a little milder, runs up my arm when we touch. It’s his hand. I grab it desperately with both of mine and hug it close to my chest. It’s got a heavy shackle around the delicate wrist. My own chains aren’t attached to anything, so I close the distance between us, moving my hands up his arm to his bare shoulder, and I feel the bulky metal collar around his neck. The collar is also attached to heavy shackles. His upper body is undressed and feels cold under my fingers.

Ignoring his state of undress, I move in a little closer and bring him into a gentle, tender embrace. “It’s been too long since you’ve had someone touch you with kindness,” I whisper into his ear.

When I say these words, the tense body of the cat relaxes in my arms and dissolves the tense anger into the dark. He melts into my arms, and he’s a perfect fit. He doesn’t fit the same way _Rai_ fits; more like a copy of myself, strangely. His chest hitches with a small sob, and I feel tears on my shoulder. Aoba is weeping. I bring him closer still, holding him tight.

I whisper, “It’s OK. You are _not_ alone anymore. I will _never_ leave you alone again. I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer like this. If I’d known, I would have come sooner.”

His tears continue to fall, his and mine mixing together, and I rub his back gently, careful not to hurt him. I’m afraid to hurt him. As my memory returns, I recall he was covered in bruises. Is he subject to beatings? More like the one Mink gave him in front of everyone at the bar? And why did _I_ feel it? Is that why my ass is still so sore? I open my mouth again.

“Yes, my master believes he owns me. And he has punished me. He gave me a belt spanking in front of the crew on the ship when I disobeyed him. But he doesn’t beat me like your master does. He doesn’t hurt me just for the sake of hurting me. I think he enjoys physically dominating me, but he isn’t a cruel person. He likes to see me experience pleasure. He turned the world upside down looking for me. And he _doesn’t_ keep me in a dungeon like this.” 

“What? Where are you housed?” 

“He keeps me by his side, in his quarters.”

“In his chambers? Really? He must have a cage for you, then, or does he keep you restrained?”

“There is no cage. Though sometimes he will restrain me on the bed when I don’t obey, or if I ask him to restrain me.”

“Wait—you have the right to _ask_  for things? And you’ve _asked_ to be restrained?”

“Yes," I feel myself blushing, even in the dark. "He encourages me to ask for what I need—physically. _All_ my physical needs. He feeds me daily, more than I can eat.”

“Daily? What do you eat?” Aoba’s voice is full of wonder.

“Oh, everything—bread, cheese, meat, kuims, wine, sweets, and anything I ask for. Our ship's cook is excellent.”

“You can make requests? Wait—did you _mean_ it when you said you’d never leave me? You can’t intend to _stay_ here with me. Your master sounds like a much nicer person than Mink.” 

“Aoba, I _know_ Rai would  _never_ leave me here. He will come for me. I will _beg_ him to take you with us. This is inhumane treatment. Are you not allowed to eat?”

“Only when Mink feeds me.”

“Do you see him regularly?”

“I don’t _like_ him to see me. I think he hates me. He wants to breed me— _breed me_. I loved another when he met me. And he killed that person—or at least, that’s what he told me. He killed my best friend— _before_ I even had the chance to tell him how much he _really_ meant! And then Mink kidnapped me, raped me, repeatedly and violently, beating me until I would submit. I _hate_ Mink. I want to kill him. He keeps saying he wants me to sing for him, and I don't know what he means.”

“Aoba!” My heart is truly breaking, and what I am feeling isn’t pity. “I am so sorry.”

“Konoe, Mink will come for you soon. When he does, it’s best to simply _submit_. I don’t know what he wants from you. He will _still_ be violent even when you submit. But don’t think you can change anything with guile or by request or even your obedience. He is immune to _all_ of that. He’s like a _machine_. All he wants is _control_. So you'll let him believe he _has_ it as soon as possible if you know what’s good for you. I guarantee you, he’s _nothing at all_ like your master.”

I feel a soft touch on my ears. “Hah—your ears—they are so downy and soft. Just like a kitten’s! May I touch your tail?”

I’m delighted he asked, rather than just helping himself, and rather flattered he wants to, so I shyly agree. I feel a soft caress—more gentle than anything I’ve ever felt—from the base of my tail all the way to the tip—and it sends tiny shivers up my spine.

“ _Just_ like a kitten. You’re so cute, Konoe. I’m _so_ glad you’re here with me. I can’t explain it, but you make me feel whole—like I was only half a person before. Maybe I _can_ get through this. I see why Rai is captivated by you. Maybe if he comes for you, he will save me, too. I would like to stay by your side. Maybe I can have some hope, too.”

It’s funny he’s calling _me_ a kitten because he can’t be much older than I am. I think of asking his age, but I don’t. He has only recently warmed up to me, and I don’t want to be rude. I let him caress my tail, which quickly turns into grooming, and I start to relax in his arms. I curl up, little spoon style, and let him groom me.

It feels very different from when Rai grooms me. This feels like something I experienced long ago and had forgotten. Have I met Aoba before in this lifetime? I’m sure I haven't. He’s never been off this island, and I've never been here. But maybe in a previous life? What a ridiculous thought.

My mind wanders I drift off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Mink comes in to take Konoe away. Their first interaction is quite unpleasant, especially for Konoe.
> 
> Warning: There's a fairly cruel whipping in this chapter, and Mink's intentions are to subjugate the second Siren to his will, so he does everything he can to humiliate Konoe.

The door of the room opens with a clanking noise, making me realize that there are actual _bars_ on the door. Mink keeps his Siren locked in a _cage_ , and now, I’m in here with him. I feel fear in the pit of my stomach when I hear the sound of jingling keys.

“What are you _doing_ to him, Aoba?” Mink’s voice is menacing.

“I was only comforting him. He is afraid and alone and missing his master.” Aoba sounds quietly defiant.

“And how is that _your_ job? Perhaps you could think of comforting _me_ , your _own_ master and captain. But you don’t have that in your cold, hard heart, do you?” Mink looms over Aoba as he speaks. I’m frozen in place, not knowing what to do.

Aoba covers me protectively. “He is a _much_ more delicate creature than I am—even more so than I was when I first came here, Mink! You _can’t_ treat him like you’ve treated me!”

“And who are _you_ to tell me what I can and cannot do?” Mink’s hand comes down in a flash, smacking Aoba’s cheek hard enough to knock him backward, knocking me out of his arms. He pulls Aoba up off the floor by his arm and grabs his ear, and a pained squeal comes out of Aoba’s mouth that sends shivers down my spine.

I reach up and put my hand on Mink’s arm, and I beg. “Please.” On my knees, once again on the dirty floor. “I’ll come with you, and do what you want. Just tell me what you want from me. You’ve hurt him enough. _Please_ , no more.”

Mink’s cool blue eyes turn to face me, interested that I have spoken, and _shocked_ that I’d dare interrupt. “Rai hasn’t trained you to keep quiet, little one?” He looks down at me, looming over me.

I feel my body trembling. I answer quietly, “Punish me if you like, for my insolence, for my interruption. But Aoba has had _enough_.”

I hear a guffaw from Mink. “Aren’t you a brave little fellow? I see why Rai finds you fascinating. Come along then.” He drops Aoba to the floor, and I hear those heavy shackles clank against the ground, a grunt of pain expelled from Aoba’s mouth.

“Konoe!” I hear Aoba, yelling after me, as I’m dragged from the room.

Mink picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. The halls are dark, but I’m sure we are still on land. This is not a ship. I just _hope_ Rai will find me, and _soon_ , before this monster kills me. He will find me, won’t he? I hear Mink open a door, and he walks inside. He throws me unceremoniously to the floor and has a seat in a chair, crossing his legs.

“My master, he’s all right, isn’t he?” I ask. I catch my breath after having the wind knocked out of me. What’s _with_ this cat, throwing smaller cats around like this? “Is he still here? Does he know where I am? Was he injured? He is _fiercely_ protective of me, you know? I’d hate for anything to happen to you if you were to treat me poorly.”

Mink looks down at me. He is terrifying. His chiseled face betrays no emotion. His cool blue eyes stare down at me without an ounce of feeling or sympathy. His dreadlocks are tied back with a pink bandana, and I’m shocked to see several hoops in his ear. They are different from mine, however, much wider in diameter, having stretched out the hole in his ear significantly. Are they jade, perhaps? But _why_ are his ears pierced? Isn’t that a sign of slavery?

“Why are _your_ ears pierced?” I can’t stop the question from spilling from my lips. And worse, more words come tumbling out before I manage to stop them. “Does that mean you were once a slave, too?”

His eyes look at me harshly, and I _immediately_ regret my question. But it almost felt like _I_ wasn’t the one asking. “You ask _entirely_ too many questions and talk _way_ too much with that voice of yours,” Mink states, but his voice isn’t cruel. It sounds more like he is enduring something annoying rather than threatening me. “And don’t you at least wait for an answer before you go on to the next question? You’re so poorly trained.”

I don’t like him talking about training me as though I were a pet. And making it worse, he reaches out to my ears, stroking them gently. “These are even softer than they appear. Your white fur feels downy, like Tori’s feathers.” He nods toward the corner of the room, where I spy a perch. And on that perch, I see that gigantic, majestic cockatoo, in all his proud white and pink glory, where he preens himself elegantly.

Watching him preen himself with his tiny eyepatch in place, I let out a little giggle. I can’t help it! He looks _exactly_ like my master would if he himself were a bird. Just slightly pinker. Rai grooms himself in exactly the same way, as if putting on a show.

Mink is stunned by my laughter. “Are you really such a light-hearted spirit, that you can find something to laugh about, even when your future is at stake, while your safety is in question?” I can tell he _means_ to speak harshly, but his tone is more surprised than anything else.

“It’s not that,” I explain. “It’s just that your bird reminds me of my master. If _he_ were a bird, this is what he would look like.” When I say these words, the cockatoo stops his grooming at looks up at me, as if he understands my words. He looks almost _offended_. That expression _really_ looks like Rai! “Even _that_ expression! How he elegantly preens himself reminds me of him so much.”

“I am _not_ a cat,” comes a gravelly voice from the corner perch. What the hell? Did he speak? The bird just spoke? I am shocked. I look to Mink and back to the bird. I rub my ears, thinking I must have misheard.

When I look at Mink, I see him rolling his eyes. “What a frivolous creature you are. It must be your nature. Carefree and frivolous. Aoba was like that when I first claimed him.”

I’m quiet for a moment, and I sit up on the floor, keeping my back straight, hugging my knees to my body, wrapping my tail snuggly around myself. I try to look submissive, as per Aoba’s instructions.

“Why do you keep him locked up in such a sad place?” I ask. “He’s unhappy there. He’s alone, broken, in despair. What are you trying to do to him?”

“It’s Aoba’s choice to remain where he is. He knows he could stay with me and have every care of his met. All he has to do is obey my commands. But he refuses to submit to my will.”

What is this man talking about? I’ve never seen a more submissive creature than Aoba! I’m honestly shocked to hear him talk like this.

“Perhaps he is _unable_ to do as you wish, because of how he is kept,” I suggest delicately.

Mink leans down toward me, leaning the entirety of his massive upper body in my direction. I shrink away from him reflexively. He _frightens_ me. Perhaps I _am_ speaking out of turn.

“I am sorry,” I cast my eyes down. “I spoke out of turn. I don’t know what it is you want him to do. I only know about poor living conditions from my own limited experience. Please forgive me.”

His hand reaches out and grabs my collar, and he pulls me toward him, pulling me up onto his lap. I feel utter revulsion when he touches me, when my body comes in contact his. A wave of nausea comes over me. Please, _no_ —the thought of him touching me intimately disgusts me.

“Your purpose—it’s _not_ speaking, little one. You have quite a lesson to learn here, and I’m more than happy to teach you.” I flinch when I hear the word “lesson” from Mink, and my breath catches. I also feel my heart rate increase. “Your role is to please your master in every way. I’m not sure exactly _what_ that arrogant silver cat has been teaching you, but I can tell he is _much_ too permissive for my taste. You need much stricter discipline, at least while you are in my household.”

Keeping one hand on my collar, which holds me in his lap, straddling his large thighs, he moves his other hand down my back toward the base of my tail, which he grabs and pulls cruelly. A small pained noise comes out of my mouth, and a tear slips down my cheek.

“Oh, tears already? Is this part of the Siren’s nature as well? Aoba is a crybaby, too. I’ve barely even touched you yet!” He looks at my face closely. I want him to get his hands _off_ my tail. 

“Actually, let’s see what you’ve got in you as far as obedience and compliance goes. Maybe you can teach Aoba something, or whether you need to _learn_ from him. You said I could punish you for your insolence, after all, and I’ll be punishing you for excessive lip.” He releases his hands from my collar and tail, and I fall off his lap, gracelessly, onto the floor again.

“Get to your feet,” his harsh voice commands. I obey as quickly as I can. “Remove your clothes. You won’t require them while you’re here anyway. Sirens do not need clothing. They only hinder your duties.”

Hearing these words, I feel diminished as a person—like he’s made me into an object—and I feel shame. I know he doesn’t see me as a fellow cat. I feel blood rushing to my face and ears as I reach for the button on my coat. As I unbutton it, I try my question one more time.

“Is my master safe? Is he here? Was he left unharmed?”

I see a flash of silver from Mink’s hand—the rings on his fingers—just before his hand makes contact with my face. I hear a ringing in my ears when his hand connects to my cheek, and the blow forces additional tears from my eyes. I bring both my hands up to cover my cheek in shock—I nearly lost my balance when he hit me with the impact of the blow, though I know he took it _easy_ compared to when he hit Aoba.

“I asked you to _strip_ , not ask questions,” Mink snarls. “Shut your mouth and obey.”

A small whimper leaks out of my mouth, and I try to hurry. I feel swelling in my cheek where he hit me, and I taste blood in my mouth. I even bit my tongue from the force of the blow. That was the first time anyone has ever hit me in the face like that.

I slip my arms out of the coat and look for a place to put it, looking to him for instructions.

“Leave it on the floor. I’ll have it discarded later. You won’t be needing it again.”

My heart aches when I hear those words, but I try not to become discouraged. I unlace my boots and awkwardly pull them off my feet while remaining standing. Then, I unbuckle my belt and pull it off. I undo the knee garters on my breeches and pull off my stockings. I fold my clothing up neatly on the floor, rather than throwing it aside. I _don’t_ make eye contact with Mink as I disrobe. He is _not_ Rai. He is _not_ my master. He doesn’t deserve my best treatment.

My fingers are trembling when I reach the buttons on my breeches, and it takes a few tries to get them undone. I’m starting to feel overcome with fear. Mink watches me closely, and I’m sure he sees me shaking. I pull the breeches off my hips, and fold them up neatly, adding them to the pile of clothes. My blouse is long enough to cover my important parts anyway.

I get to work on the top button, which is about mid-way down my chest. As I undo the buttons, I hear a gasp form Mink when he spies my nipple piercings.

“I noticed the chain when you walked into the bar,” he comments. “But as Rai is your owner, I thought there was no _way_ he’d do a traditional Sisa slave piercing on you. It looks _amazing_. Was it _painful_?” His voice actually shows interest, when he talks about me experiencing pain.

I don’t answer. I continue getting undressed.

“Oy,” comes his sharp voice. “I just asked you a question. It’d be in your best interest to answer.”

I look up, and his eyes gleam wickedly. “Of _course_ it hurt.”

“But what? You _enjoyed_ it? Do you enjoy pain? You suffered in spite of the pain for your _beloved_ _master’s_ sake?” I _hate_ the mocking tone in his voice. I’ll be damned if I admit _any_ of those things, but I certainly cannot let him know about my strange relationship with pain and pleasure under any circumstances.

“Because he’s my master, I tolerated it. It was our first interaction. He’s made up for any pain he’s caused since then. He explained it signifies ownership and it will protect me from his crew as well as others.”

“How’s _that_ worked out for you so far? That _protection_ , I mean.” Mink continues, absolute derision in his voice. I hate him. I _hate_ him. I want Rai, and I want out of here.

“He will come back for me,” I say quietly.

Mink’s hands reach out for me quite suddenly, pulling me in close. He’s uncrossed his legs, and he pulls me between them, pressing me against his crotch. He has his hands on the silk blouse. “Such _fine_ fabric. You haven’t been with Rai for long, have you? It’s less than two weeks between here and Sisa, so it’s been about that amount of time, hasn’t it? And yet, he managed to find such _fine_ clothing for you, and it fits so well?”

“I don’t know how he managed it, either.” Truthfully, I _don’t_ wear much clothing on the ship—or haven’t been wearing much on the ship, though it was available if I wanted it. I’ve been uncomfortably hot, and it just slows me down. However, every piece I’ve tried on fits me to a tee. I have _no_ idea how he gets the sizes so perfect if I’ve never even been measured.

I hear a ripping sound. Mink has torn the beautiful ivory silk from my chest, and he continues to shred it, piece by piece, from my body. With each tear, something is torn from my chest, from my _heart_. He has such a look of _joy_ in his eyes, though his face remains static, nearly expressionless.

“Like I said, fine clothes or not, you _won’t_ need them while you’re in my company,” he explains. I watch as tatters of the beautiful blouse fall to the ground. I don’t cry, however. And now, I’m standing nude between his legs. I keep my eyes cast down to the floor.

“You certainly do have a lovely form,” Mink says admiringly. “Lithe, athletic, slim but not too thin. You’re more petite than Aoba, even. And your skin is amazingly smooth.” I feel his hands against my sides, running down underneath my arms, along my torso, dipping in at my waist, out at my hips. “This line of your body is particularly attractive.” The feeling of disgust wells up in my throat like vomit.

I look up for a moment, meeting his blue eyes with my large honey-colored ones. My expression is sad, almost pitying. He has his _own_ Siren, which is so very rare, very uncommon. If he had only taken better care of Aoba, he could have had a relationship like Rai enjoys with me. But he hasn’t done that. He has his own selfish motives, and he’s crushed everyone near and dear to Aoba. And now, he does nothing but punish the blue cat, who in return, keeps to himself.

“You have quite defiant eyes,” Mink says. “How are we going to fix this?” He seems to be asking himself. “Surely, your master must have punished you at _least_ once. I’m sure Rai must have enjoyed it. I know exactly what _I’d_ like to do, in fact. What about you? Didn’t you find it effective?”

“Captain Mink, sir,” I address him formally. “What is it you _want_ from me?”

Mink stands up suddenly, walking to a dresser a little way away. His room is really inelegant. It can’t _possibly_ be a hotel—it’s dusty, though the floors in here are cleaner than some of the other rooms we passed, and much cleaner than Aoba’s dungeon. I hear some clinking noises as he returns to me. He’s holding up some heavy-looking chains.

“Here, _instead_ of clothing, Sirens wear shackles,” Mink explains. “This reminds them that there is no escape. And it also provides those around them with additional control in case the Siren were to try something unnecessary. Hold out your hands.”

Reluctantly, I hold out my hands as instructed. “Engraved gold wrist cuffs?” Mink whistles. “Nothing but the _best_ for this spoiled kitten, I see.” The chains are quite heavy, once they are connected to both of my wrists. “I require your ankles, too.”

I sit on the ground and lift my feet into his lap, and he attaches an additional chain between my ankles. He runs his hands along the soles of my feet, once the shackles are attached. They are heavy as well, making it harder to walk. The two chains between my wrists and ankles are attached to a third chain, which is attached to my collar. He runs a finger around the elegant scrollwork of the collar. “Each piece is a part of a matching set. I see you are _truly_ spoiled. You will _not_ hold such a position here. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

He grabs the chain cruelly, and I realize he _can_ control my body now, making me feel like a puppet. _I hate this!_ Fresh tears fall from my eyes—frustrated, angry tears, and Mink doesn’t miss them.

“Crying _again_? Oh, I’ll _give_ you something to cry about here in a minute.” He drags me by the shackles to the corner. “Here, you do _not_ cry unless you are in _pain_. There is _no_ self-pity here. Let’s give you something worth those precious tears of yours. Come.”

He drags my arms up overhead, attaching them to the wall in front of me and slightly above shoulder height, but he shoves a stool beneath my belly, so I’m draped up over it, bent over it, sticking my ass out behind me. My toes barely reach the floor—I work to maintain my balance, and when I do, the most I can do is stand on my tiptoes. Looking up, I see there is a mirror in front of me, hanging on the wall. Mink’s cruel expression is reflected in the mirror, and he’s watching me closely. How humiliating! My face is pink already, my ears and chest getting redder by the minute.

“This punishment is to cover _both_ your insolence earlier, when I was speaking to Aoba and you butted your nose in where it didn’t belong, and _also_ to teach you that there is no crying over superficial things. If there are tears, they are tears of _pain_.”

I watch as he caresses my ass with more than a little enthusiasm, and a chill runs through my body. I try to wiggle away from him, but I can’t since the stool is too tall. A wave of fear comes over me. I’m afraid of what he will do to me—and it feels like a bucket of ice water pouring over my back when I see him pull a slender leather whip from the dresser. Gods, a _whip_!

“N-no,” I beg. “Please— _please,_ have mercy! I already suffered at your hand when you punished Aoba earlier. _Please_ —have mercy!”

“Are you _afraid_ , kitten?” Mink asks in a silky voice, hand caressing my ass softly. “I can definitely see where you were affected earlier. I wondered what was going on then. Do you suppose Aoba will be able to feel your pain as well? I can’t _wait_ to find out. I usually have him count, but I don’t know how many strokes I want to give you. I don’t know how many it will take to break your will. I can’t _wait_ to see these perfect, round cheeks glowing red and jiggling.” His voice is laced with lust. I’m filled with absolute terror, and I can’t stop my tears.

“I’m hoping by the time we’re finished, you’ll be malleable in my fingers, like clay. Ready to be molded into whatever creature I desire.” His voice is _still_ like that—filled with lust and desire—and I’m disgusted. “Lift up your face, and keep it raised, so I can see your expression in the mirror. I’ll be _mighty_ displeased if you fail.”

I lift up my chin as best as I can, and I see the whip coming down on my ass. It makes a whooshing sound, and I hear the smack on my ass—it cracks in the air, filling up the room with a full, satisfying sound. Only _after_ the sound rings in my ears does the pain register, and I let out a cry of pain. It’s much, _much_ worse than Rai’s belt. The whip is made of thin, smooth leather, so there’s almost no sound in the air. But the feeling when it hits my ass is so painful—it’s sharp, biting, and it stings, causing my body to twitch and jump.

I don’t get a chance to recover from the first crack before he brings it down for the next—and it hurts even more. This one is aimed lower, right where my legs and bottom meet. I give a shrieking cry in response. It’s _so_ sensitive there—where Rai likes to groom—and the burning sensation from the blow of the whip stays there for a long time after Mink moves on to another spot.

He aims for my right and left cheeks separately—and the thin whip makes for an exacting tool for punishment. He can aim exactly where he wants, and it inflicts the maximum amount of pain. I can feel the raised lines from where the whip has hit my flesh, reddening darkly, burning.

The next two blows are aimed lower still—against the tender backs of my thighs. I’ve _never_ been hit there, and the skin is smooth, unblemished, and extra sensitive. I cry in earnest complete with tears when the whip comes down against my legs—unable to bear it. I try to stand up, to escape the blows, but I can’t because my hands are shackled to the wall in front of me.

Mink aims a few more strokes against my ass, concentrating on each cheek and my sit spot, before he kicks the stool a little closer to the wall. I try to stand up, and when I do, he smacks the backs of my thighs so soundly I snap my legs together and scream in pain.

“You will stay right where you are,” growls the low voice behind me. “Open your legs.”

I don’t think I can. He whips my thighs again, harder still—and another cry rips out of me. “Obey me, Siren. Open your legs, or I will _make_ you obey.” The whip comes down once more on my thighs—it hurts so much! In the mirror, I can see where the tip of the whip has reached the front of my thigh, and the mark it left is raised and bright red.

When he whips my legs, I feel like I have to snap them together, defending myself, but I am truly _trying_ to obey. I simply can’t get my body to do what it’s supposed to, because the whipping hurts so much. Taking calming deep breaths, I am able to lean forward on the stool and spread my legs wide. I realize he has much better access to my sit spot now, which fills me with dread. I’m terribly exposed like this, and I worry he may do permanent damage to parts of me that should _never_ be touched with a whip.

“That’s a good boy,” Mink praises me. But his praise does _nothing_ for me. Especially not when the whip comes down against that tender part of my ass once more. I scream loudly, sobs wracking my body.

“Mink, _please_!” I beg. “I can’t take anymore— _please_ —please, stop.” I’m crying constantly now, not just when the whip comes down, but also in between blows.

“It’s too _early_ to be begging for mercy, little one,” Mink says. And then I feel the whip come down against my thighs, and it wraps itself around the inside of my leg. It hurts so much I nearly kick the chair over, and I scream louder than I have yet. The pain completely engulfs me, engulfs my body, and I start hallucinating. A glow comes over my body, and a song rises up from my chest.

It’s a song of protection and healing. My song has _never_ been used offensively—I don’t know how to use it to defend myself, really, either. But I _can_ use it to heal my wounds, and apparently, to heal wounds currently being inflicted when the pain becomes too much to bear. I can’t understand the lyrics of the song, but the melody definitely implies both healing and protection.

In the mirror, I see Mink’s shocked expression, but he also looks _delighted_. He cracks the whip cruelly, joyfully, once more against my open thighs, allowing the whip to snap against the sensitive flesh on the inside of my legs, reaching almost up to the crevice between them. I think I see him smiling, and I'm utterly revolted. I’m still in _terrible_ pain, and I reply with another terrifically loud scream. But the protection from the song seems to soften the after-effects, and it prevents the pain from spreading through my ass and down my legs.

He tries out the whip on my tail, which is excruciating as well. It wraps itself in my fur, matting it down, pulling some out by the root. I scream, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as the whipping against my thighs.

My tears are flowing full force, and my song flows continuously from my body. Mink is watching me with fascination, eyeing my reflection as he continues the punishment. I wonder if Aoba sings this way or if his song is different. The effort from the song, however, is wearing me thin, and also, my calves and legs are cramping from reaching up on tiptoe the past fifteen minutes. My legs shake in exhaustion and from pain, my breath is hitching, and I need _help_.

The outer edges of my eyes grey out, fading slowly, like I’m looking through a tunnel. I am hoping— _sincerely_ hoping—that I lose consciousness, and _soon_. I can’t take anymore, and I simply must escape it somehow. I feel two more blows, directed to my inner thighs, the pain creeping up higher and higher each time. And finally, just before I lose consciousness completely, I vomit on the floor just in front of the mirror.

Then, my world turns black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Productive, no? I got lots of writing done this weekend. Editing, not so much. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mink's POV - a little history between him and Aoba, and his plans for the two Sirens.

_He sang._ Mink runs his hands through Konoe’s hair, stroking his soft ears gently. While he’s asleep, treating him with a little tenderness shouldn’t hurt his training, he supposes. He can see why Rai would go a little soft on this one after experiencing what he’s just experienced. _I_ finally _heard the Siren’s song._ This _is what Rai has been raving about all these years. From_ Rai’s _Siren, too, not the one I acquired._

He doesn’t intend to keep Konoe. He respects the silver cat—Rai is dangerous, dedicated, and an absolute _menace_ once he’s attached himself to an idea or decided on something he wants. The last thing Mink wants is to cause a feud between them. But Rai is too arrogant for his own good. Simply borrowing his Siren for a few days won’t hurt anyone.

 _I needed to hear the song for myself._ Mink has experienced many of the Siren’s other gifts from Aoba. The experience when Aoba went into heat was something else. He was amazing in bed, simply mind-blowing! Sexually speaking, _nothing_ compares to a Siren in heat. However—from what he heard from the two sailors who have been kicked off The Murderous Joy’s crew, _this_ little Siren was in heat for over _six days_. Aoba may have been under some stress, of course. Or maybe because it wasn’t his first heat. Well, _was_ it his first heat? Mink doesn’t know. He never bothered to find out.

 _I need to hear Aoba sing. I_ want _to hear him sing. Why doesn’t he sing? Doesn’t he know how?_ If Rai can get _his_ Siren to sing, perhaps he might be right about keeping the Siren's environment more stable, maybe feeding him a little more, giving him a better place to rest.

Mink examines Konoe’s sleeping body on the bed, especially the rising welts on his ass and his tender thighs—gods, those are gorgeous. They don’t mar his skin. If anything, the welts accent it, bringing out the smoothness and perfection of the rest of his body. He’s completely exhausted himself, however. _Perhaps I did go overboard with that punishment. But I just can’t imagine Rai being able to hold himself back. He treats his crew harshly, and I’ve seen what he does to them when they don’t toe the line_. Just remembering that small kitten fighting his tears, fighting the pain, resisting with all his might, what a sight that was! The lovely expression on his face—it seemed like there was something else there, something underneath, perhaps something he was hiding. Was it the Siren? It felt almost as though the Siren has a separate, individual personality of his own beneath his sweet, innocent kitten-ish exterior.

Mink decided to adopt Rai’s discarded crew members as part of his team. They probably tried to touch what they shouldn’t have. The Siren’s call seems to call forth a person’s possessive nature, which is something he _hasn’t_ experienced with Aoba. Aoba would be better off in some respects if he could at least try to manipulate his master in the same way that Konoe has done with Rai. But hasn’t Rai always had that possessive nature? Or has it only been since he heard the original Siren’s call so many years ago? _I’ve only known Rai for six years, and that was_ after _he first met that Siren of his. Perhaps this kitten is indeed the cause._

Looking down, Mink also feels an unfamiliar protectiveness, a hesitance to expose this kitten to those barbarians formerly from Rai’s crew. He doesn’t feel that way about Aoba. So what, really, is the difference? Aoba is _much_ more compliant than Konoe—at least, at this point. He saw that Konoe tried to act compliant, but there is no hiding those eyes of his. His eyes show definite defiance.

Aoba’s submission comes from discouragement and bereavement. Mink led Aoba to believe that his lover is dead, and that he died by Mink’s own hand. There were no other options to keep Aoba subdued. Mink didn’t want to risk a full-on battle with Benishigure, Koujaku’s band of hooligans, of course. Instead, he made it look like Aoba had eloped with him, a sudden new love interest. He’s certain Koujaku was crushed, but he is definitely still living. You never know when you may need an ally, and that’s what Koujaku is to Mink.

Mink’s crew had been at sea for several months and returned to shore two weeks earlier. He frequented Koujaku’s hangouts, including another gang leader’s tattoo parlor, Mizuki’s Black Needle, the leader of Dry Juice, hoping to meet him. When they met, he let him know Aoba was doing well and loving the pirate life. He couldn’t let them meet, of course. It would be awkward, to say the least, and Aoba can’t be trusted to play the part. Plus he thinks Koujaku is dead, and it’s probably easier for him that way. Koujaku knows _nothing_ of Aoba’s Siren personality or gifts, although it must be part of his original attraction to Aoba. Aoba attracts many love interests unintentionally using his Siren gifts, and Mink has tried to train him out of this habit with little success. Koujaku seems to have been drinking a lot, and he didn’t seem well. _Not my problem,_ Mink assures himself. _How Red runs his life is his business._ And despite the drinking, Benishigure seems to be thriving.

The point of bringing Rai’s Siren into the mix is to help Aoba fulfill his duties as a breeder. Of course, Mink understands Aoba isn’t inclined to mate with females. He probably has never leaned in that direction. The enslaved females Mink selected are the type most likely to bear children, so they are on the curvy side with larger hips and breasts. During the mating season, no compatibility was found: Aoba’s wavelengths didn’t match up with any of theirs, even when Mink forced them together.

Mink is now at the end of his rope. Perhaps getting this little one involved will help. He may be able to show him how it’s done, or perhaps—as he noticed at the bar—his pain can be used to incite Aoba to action, even if it _isn’t_ his first choice. Mink hadn’t realized that there such a sympathetic bond between Sirens. 

Of course, they wouldn’t _mate_ , would they? But what if Aoba saw that something terrible was going to happen to this sweet little kitten, through no fault of his own, if Aoba refused to do his duty? Perhaps he’d be willing to try impregnating the females at _that_ point. Plus, he’d save himself pain as well—that is, _if_ the sympathetic pain flows in both directions.

Mink is quite pleased that he came up with this plan. It will most likely be successful.

 _I should check on Aoba to see if the sympathetic pain does indeed flow in both directions_. _Aoba should have welts if it does. While I’m down there, why don’t we give that idea a try? We have nothing to lose. I’ll bring him back with me._ With that thought in mind, he shackles the exhausted, sleeping Konoe to the bed, running his hands over that compact, lithe body one last time.

 _Addicting_. _Addicting, that’s what you are._ After hearing his song, Mink realized _that’s_ its purpose. It calls to your heart, pulls you in, makes you want to claim the Siren as your own. Even though Konoe was singing only to heal himself, that is what Mink got out of the song. 

“Enough,” he says to himself, out loud. _There is work to be done._ He departs, heading down to the cellar to fetch his own stubborn Siren, Aoba.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe comes face-to-face with the two former crew members who were stalking him on The Murderous Joy. In this chapter, they help carry out Mink's plan, using Konoe as encouragement to get Aoba to do what Mink wants him to do.
> 
> Notes: There's a rather lot of brutality in this chapter, so skip it if you're uncomfortable with that. Non-consensual all-kinds of stuff, including rape, touching, groping.

I’m woken up roughly by two crew members whose faces I don’t recognize, but whose voices are familiar. These are the two cats I heard outside the captain’s quarters, asking me to open the door a few days back. I remember them well since I begged Rai _not_ to kill them for my sake. I told him that since no harm was done, I was fine. There was no need to hurt anyone. Please show mercy on my behalf. To my surprise, Rai actually listened. He decided to let them go at the next port. I've woken up to their hands running over my body—and they are not using gentle caresses.

“Oy, little kitty,” one of them says. He has short gray hair and matching ears, his green eyes crawling over my body. “It’s time to get going. I can’t _wait_ to play with you!”

The cat with spotted orange ears and brown eyes unlocks my wrist shackles from the wall. He leans down and nuzzles his face in my hair.

“Kitten, you _still_ smell so good,” he exclaims. “Of course, Mink hasn’t said we'll have you _all_ to ourselves just yet. But he has a great plan for you, and I think it’s going to work out _perfectly_. You’re going to help Aoba fulfill his duty right now. I am getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it!”

He turns to address to the gray cat. “Think he can walk, or should we carry him?”

“Let’s make him walk. It’ll tire him out a little, too,” the gray cat answers.

Now that I’m fully awake, fear starts overtaking my body, and I want nothing more than to get away from these two. But there’s nowhere to run, and I can’t go further than the chain’s length of my shackles. They are surprisingly heavy, too, dragging on the ground as I walk.

I feel a hand brush against my butt—this time it _is_ gentle—but it’s horribly unwelcome, and it’s quite painful. I’d nearly forgotten I have welts from the whipping I’d received from Mink earlier.

“Don’t touch me!” I flinch.

“Oy, oy,” growls the spotted cat. “Kitties in your position don’t have a right to complain about being touched. We can do what we like. And judging by the look of the skin on your ass, you ought to be _thankful_ I’m touching you gently! You ought to be _grateful_! Next time I might not be so gentle.”

While I’m baring fangs at the spotted cat I'm facing, I suddenly feel a smack on my sore behind. The sound rings out loudly in the hallway. It hurts much more than normal because of the welts covering my skin. I cry out in pain, losing my balance and landing on my hands and knees.

“That’s what you get for such defiance, little kitty,” comes Sin’s voice from behind me. “You don’t get to decide who touches you, where _nor_ when.”

My eyes are brimming with tears, and I turn my face toward his voice. What did I ever do to these cats to make them treat me like _this_? That’s what I'm thinking when I look between the two of them.

“Get those legs of yours _moving_ unless you want me to hit you again! You're in a great position for me to get you pretty good, you know.”

I don’t like the sound of his threat, so I get back to my feet quickly, and continue down the dark hallway. We enter another low-lit, windowless room with bars on the door. This one has two beds in it: one pushed up against the side of the wall and one in the middle of the room. Sin pushes me onto the center bed.

When I look at the other one, I realize there’s already someone on it. It’s a female. She’s also nude, restrained by both her wrists and her ankles, lying face down. She has her head turned to the wall, so she can’t see who comes in the door. But I hear her crying softly, a heartbreaking sound. Even in the dim light of the room, gold glints from her ears. She is wearing earrings, so she also must be a slave.

“What _is_ this?” I ask quietly, trying not to panic. I notice there’s a chair between the beds which would allow someone a good view of both, and I get a sick feeling in my stomach.

The spotted cat is touching my tail. “What’s wrong with your tail, Siren? It’s crooked at the end. I’ve never seen such a weird-looking tail. It’s kinky! Did you break it?” He brushes the fur backward at the tip, sending an unpleasant shiver down my spine, making me flinch. “Hey—you can _feel_ this? How about _this_?” He pops the tip into his mouth, licking it while making lewd sounds.

“N-no! Stop!” I burst out. “Please, stop!” I beg while trying to be quiet and respectful. But this feels inappropriate. Surely, this can’t be playing out how it looks. In my eyes, two beds, these two cats who have been stalking me since first laying eyes on me, this female who is supposed to “breed” with Aoba, and an observation chair, things don't look promising. Mink doesn’t intend to do what I _think_ he does, does he?

The door to the room creaks open, and Mink walks in with Aoba in tow. Aoba’s face is even more swollen now—his lip is bleeding, and he walks with a slight limp. Oh, gods, this _can’t_ be happening. The fear in my belly turns to dread.

Mink pushes Aoba toward the bed with the female cat shackled to it. “There you go. She’s all ready for you, no prep required. Go ahead, Aoba. It’s the _one thing_ I've asked of you. It’s a simple task, nature calls you to do this. And I even chose a _pretty_ female, too. These two cats here would be happy to do it for you, but they don’t have your gifts, so that wouldn’t help me.”

Aoba looks up at Mink—he hasn’t noticed me yet. “What makes you think that today will be any different from any _other_ time you’ve tried to force me to do this, Mink? I’m never going to do this. This is _rape_ if Mana isn’t interested. She’s a person in her own right. I _won’t_ do this. It’s cruel.”

Mink smiles, sitting down in the chair. He gestures in my direction, where I am sitting on the bed between the two who brought me here. They move aside slightly, making sure Aoba will see me. “Today, I have something here to _encourage_ you in your duties. If you continue to rebel, I’m going to assume it’s because you don’t know _how it’s done._ I’ll just have these two demonstrate for you, _one right after the other_ —on this little kitten here.”

Aoba’s mouth drops open. “What? N-no! He’s got nothing to do with your quarrel with me! You c-can’t!”

“Oh, I can,” Mink says. “And I will. In fact, I think these two cats are quite eager, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” answers Sin immediately. “I’ve been waiting for weeks—ever since I first saw him on the deck of Captain Rai’s ship. I knew right then I _had_ to have him.”

“I don’t mind if you disobey Captain Mink even a little bit,” pipes in the spotted cat. “This little one's scent has been driving me _crazy_.” He is standing behind me, letting his hands wander over my chest as he says this, and I can feel his nose nuzzling my hair. It feels _disgusting_.

Aoba looks defeated and confused, and in his place, I would be, too. He glances at the girl, who has turned her head toward me out of curiosity. She has a pretty face—I’m struck by how lovely she is—even with a long scar under her right eye. Her eyes are a stunning aqua, and she has straight strawberry blonde hair and fur. She looks at me with sympathy, which is odd, since she’s in the same position as me.

“Aoba, it’s all right,” I hear her soft voice whisper. “Do what you have to do. I understand.”

“No! It’s _not_ all right!” Aoba yells. He’s really angry. “ _Nothing_ is right about this! Get your hands off that cat! He doesn’t have anything to do with this— _nothing_! Plus, haven’t you tortured him enough already today, Mink?”

I’m surprised to hear him so angry. He’s usually so quiet and complacent.

“Ah, so you’re angry about that? Is it because you could feel it, too?” Mink asks, from his place on the chair, leaning forward a little, his hands on his knees. “Aren’t you curious to see whether you’ll be able to experience what he experiences sexually as well?”

“No! Not at all!” He pauses for a moment, taking a breath. “Fine—I will do as you ask,” Aoba says. “Just _please_ —don't hurt Konoe. This is such a bad idea, though. I mean, you don’t even _know_ if these ‘gifts’ of mine will be passed on or not, so what’s the point?”

Aoba turns around, toward Mana, the girl. When he does, I'm startled to see marks on his butt and thighs. He has many raised welts, bright red, just like mine, standing out boldly against his pale skin. I can’t help my shock—nor the noise that comes out of me—when I see them.

“Aoba—your legs! Were you also punished?” I ask, quietly. I can’t believe it. Here I was, thinking I had taken that punishment on his behalf. My legs are even still tender to the touch. But was it really all for nothing? Did Mink whip him, too, while I was recovering?

“No,” Aoba turns his head to me, sorrow in his eyes. “Not at all. It seems I experience your pain sympathetically, just like you do with mine. We must be connected in that way.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, and then I realize what has happened, what he is saying. And then, I realize what Mink is threatening to do, and what is about to happen to me. I start resisting the two cats on either side of me—kicking, pushing, scratching—with every ounce of energy I have. I’ll be _damned_ if these two assholes are going to lay hands on me, or if I’m going to be used like this! That is _not_ my purpose!

“Get _off_ me!” I yell. “Let me go!”

The two cats seem prepared for me to go berserk, however, and have already grabbed hold of my shackles. The spotted cat pull the chains on ankles as tightly as he can, flipping me onto my stomach, while the gray cat pulls my wrist restraints.

“Oy, oy,” the gray cat says. “Don’t be drawing your claws now, little one—we don’t want to see those cute little fangs, either! Though, gods, your fur sure is _pretty_ all fluffed out like this! Look at his tail, Spots—his fur is so lush!” I feel someone grabbing my tail, and I growl loudly in protest. “Here we were, about to try to make you feel _good_ , and you have to go and _ruin_ it all by baring your fangs and drawing your claws.”

The spotted cat says, “To me, it doesn’t matter either way. It’s fun whether you’re having a good time _or_ in pain. I don’t really care one way or the other. Hey, Sin, you got his wrists secured at that end? His ankles are hooked up nice and tight down here.”

Sure enough, my ankles are secured to the bedposts. I’m lying facedown on the bed now, my legs spread apart, my arms out to the sides, unable to move and vulnerable, yet I’m still growling and hissing.

“Kitten, you’d better calm down, or you’re going to piss off your master.”

“My _master_ isn’t here!” I yell. “Don’t fucking _touch_ me!”

I feel two sets of hands on my body, stroking me, petting me, in my hair, pulling my tail—no, _yanking_ it—feeling me up—and I _hate_ it.

“Get your hands _off_ me!”

The minute a hand gets close to my face, I turn my head and snap at it, trying to bite the fingers.

“Oooh— _scary_!” The spotted cat says. “Man, just keep clear of his mouth. Those little fangs are sharp!” Another hand is feeling up my ass at this point, and more intimately than just the outer parts of butt cheeks. It fills me with utter dread.

I hear Aoba say, “I _said_ I’d do what you want! Just leave him _alone_. He doesn’t have anything to _do_ with this!”

“Then you’d better get to work, Aoba. You’re keeping _me_ and the girl waiting. Plus, who _knows_ what those two may do to your little friend if you don’t hurry up.”

I turn my head desperately in Aoba’s direction, but I only see a portion of the bed because of how I’m restrained. He whispers something to the girl on the bed, and I see him touch her back gently, massaging her back and shoulders, as he sits on the bed next to her. She nods her head quickly, and I think I hear her say, “Just get _on_ with it! I’ll manage—I’ll even help you as much as I can.”

“I’m so sorry!” Aoba says, and he disappears from sight. However, the other bed starts creaking regularly, and I hear a strange sound from Mana.

That’s when I hear an unpleasant sound from over my shoulder—it’s a belt being unbuckled—and I desperately protest, “Wait— _wait_ a minute—isn’t Aoba _complying_? Wait—hang on! _Please_ —wait!”

The spotted cat is behind me—I’m sure it's him—and my stomach flops around inside me sickeningly. His voice sounds husky and hoarse when he speaks.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you when Captain Rai laid claim to you on deck that night. I _knew_ you’d be mine one day—I just had to be patient. This ass of yours is so fucking _perfect_.” His fingers caress my butt gently, but it burns when they trace the stripes left from Mink’s whip. I flinch, and tears well in my eyes. I can guess what’s coming next, and my body starts to shake with fear. “Even these stripes accent your form, making you look even _more_ perfect…” His voice trails off in a world all its own.

“Please—can’t you just—won’t you  _please_  just stop?” I am begging with all my might, but I can’t withdraw my claws, or stop my fangs from showing, and my speech is slurred. Also, my trembling body makes my voice shake, too. It’s obvious that I’m afraid by the tremor in my voice.

“And your tail fur is all fluffy and pretty—is that for _me_? Are you _excited_ for me? Is that why I hear that wonderful trembling in your voice? Are you anticipating how _wonderful_ you’re going to feel with me _inside_ you?” His voice drips with lust, and I feel like I’m going to vomit. Of _course_ , my fur has bristled—I’m on the defensive, plus I’m afraid and angry. I’m as _far_ from sexually aroused as I can get.

Suddenly, two hands are gripping my thighs, which also burn from Mink's whip marks, and I do more than flinch: I squirm and protest. Then I feel my cheeks being pried apart. Something hot hovers behind my entrance— _only_ for a second. And then, all at once, the spotted cat rams his dick into me—all the way to the hilt—without _any_ preparation whatsoever. I get the wind knocked out of me, lose my breath, I'm being torn in half, and turned inside out. As soon as air fills my lungs, I let out an agonized scream, but I can’t escape. I can’t move, I can’t protect myself. I can’t do anything. I’m completely helpless, completely defenseless, totally vulnerable. Tears spill down my face.

From over my shoulder, I hear a satisfied sigh and something that sounds like, “Holy shit—you’re so fucking _tight_ —oh my _gods!_ AndI thought after all that time with the captain you’d be at least a little loosened up. I mean holy _hell_ , I got a look at the captain’s junk on deck that night, didn’t we all? How could _that_ not have loosened you up a _little_ bit? Ah— _shit_ —I'm finally _inside_ you!”

At the same time, in another part of my mind that isn’t trying to survive, I realize something weird is happening across the room, but I can’t exactly tell what. Aoba is making strangled sounds, and the creaking from the bed has stopped, and he has stopped moving, frozen in place, it seems. Is _he_ in pain, too? Is he sharing this agony? 

To my utter relief, the cat on top of me doesn’t move for a moment, either. However, before I get a chance to adjust, he takes himself _all_ the way out and rams into me once again. It feels like he’s reopened the same wound, and it hurts as much the second time. I think I might die from the pain right now. I let out another scream and hear strangled words falling unbidden from my mouth.

“Please—stop—have mercy— _please_ —I can’t handle this— _please_ —stop—“

“Aww, you’re begging! I _love_ hearing you beg. I sat outside the door of the captain’s quarters just _waiting_ to hear you beg—and now I’m hearing you beg _me_ —gods, it’s even more of a turn-on than I even _fantasized_!”

He rams into me _again_ —the same all-the-way-out-and-all-the-way-in movement he did before—and I scream loudly again, hoping I might become used to the pain soon, but that isn’t happening. I feel so _completely_ helpless. I’ve _never_ been used like this before. While Rai has been rough with me, he’s never assaulted me so violently, and he’s always been sure I’ve been adequately lubricated, so I wouldn’t hurt like this. I want my _master_ —where _is_ he now? How could he leave me here? I feel completely abandoned.

And then the same move once more, accompanied by the spotted cat’s sigh of pleasure and desire, to which I respond with another scream. I finally realize I’m _not_ going to die from this pain, or if I am, it’s going to be a slow death—not nearly fast enough to escape the pain he is causing. That realization makes me want to die even more. I can’t move, I can’t fight, I can’t escape. I’m trapped right where I am, and the cat inside me is experiencing such _pleasure_ in my pain. It makes me so angry in addition to the helplessness and injustice and pain I’m feeling.

“Go ahead—scream some _more_ —I _love_ it. _Beg_ me, plead for _mercy_ , _scream_ in pain. Let me see your tears! Do it! Come on!” The spotted cat is _really_ getting off on the sounds I’m making. Maybe he will come soon? It’s my _only_ hope—and the fact that I’m hoping he will climax—experiencing even more pleasure—disgusts me altogether. But how else will I escape this torture? I don't see another way out!

“These piercings—and the chain between them—they are so beautiful. Rai really knows his shit.” These words come out after his hands reach around my chest, grabbing hold of the chain between my nipple piercings. He gives the chain a tug—and I yell in response, though it doesn’t hurt _nearly_ as much as it does when he’s ramming himself inside me. His mouth is right next to my ear, and he whispers, “Oy, when I pull this chain, your insides actually squeeze around me, making you _even_ tighter than you are already—such an _amazing_ feeling!” And he gives it another little tug.

I really can’t tell how hard he’s pulling: if it’s hard enough to rip out the piercings from my nipples or if it’s just hard enough to stimulate a response in my body. But I am in serious pain, overstimulated, and I’m growling incessantly in response, my fangs still showing, my claws still drawn, fur still bristling.

Liquid trickles between my thighs once he starts thrusting more regularly. I think it might be blood. On one hand, it provides at least _some_ lubrication for my dry inner walls, but on the other hand, oh my gods, it’s fucking _blood_.

I’m thankful it takes less than ten minutes for this damn cat to climax, which he does with a long, drawn-out, disgusting grunt. At the moment, it felt like forever because of the amount of pain he inflicted. I’m _so_ relieved that the ordeal is over that I burst into tears. My insides feel like they are on fire when he pulls out. I fact, I feel like he might pull _me_ inside out when he pulls his dick out, so I scream again, over my sobbing.

I’m in tears—angry, painful tears—and I’m _totally_ humiliated and broken. I’ve _never_ been treated like this. I hear the gray cat whisper in my ears next—and gods, I forgot he was even _there_ —“Aren’t you _sorry_ you weren’t a little kinder to us now?”

I let out another fierce growl. I never even did anything to him! “Get the _hell_ away from me! Don’t touch me!” I want so much to curl up in a ball and groom my wounds—and bathe. Just get these crazy cats the fuck away from me!

A low, powerful voice from the center of the room says, rather huskily, “Aoba—what’s the deal—you were doing _so_ well just a few moments ago. Do you need _more_ encouragement? What seems to be the problem?”

“I can’t—move.” Aoba is out of breath. “That was just _cruel_. Mink, I was doing what you asked! How could you _do_ that to him? That kitten—he—he’s _never_ been treated so cruelly. You said as long as I obeyed—”

“I did say that,” Mink replies. “But there’s the female, and your relationship with her has _still_ not been consummated. What is it going to take? Do you want _me_ to take the kitten as well?”

“N-no! D-don’t you _touch_ him!” Aoba cries out. “I was well on my way. I just got distracted when that asshole totally went overboard! See if _you_ can concentrate when you suddenly get fucked in the ass without warning or preparation!”

Mink only laughs. “I think you’re just making it all up. Sin, take it easier on the little one than Spots did, ok?”

“Of course,” the gray cat answers. “It’s more my style anyway. Even if he _is_  still growling fiercely like that.”

“Don’t _touch_ me,” I hiss, still in tears.

“We’re a little _past_ touching at this point, don’t you think?” Sin asks. “Anyway, you wouldn’t be so cruel to give yourself to my friend and then withhold yourself from me, would you?”

“I didn’t ‘give myself’ to anyone!” I yell.

“Shh,” I feel his hand on my ears, petting my head calmly. “You need to _calm_ down. I want to treat you _better_ than Spots did. He gets ahead of himself sometimes. For _me_ , it’s no fun if my partner doesn’t enjoy it at least a little.”

“I would _enjoy_ it if you took your fucking paws _off_ me!” I yell again.

“You’re going to lose that voice if you keep yelling,” Sin says. “And how sad would it be if we couldn’t hear that beautiful Siren voice of yours, hmm?” His hands move down my back, caressing my sides. I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but of course, I can’t move. I feel hands moving toward my chest, playing with the chain between my piercings, but he doesn’t yank on it.

“This is _such_ an attractive piece of jewelry,” Sin says. “It draws the eye to your nipples, right to your chest. It seems the captain has _quite_ the eye for your assets, doesn’t he? But didn’t it hurt to get them pierced? I’ve always wondered. Did he do the piercings himself?”

I growl in response.

“You know, you _act_ like you prefer the captain above all others, but really, he _hurts_ you. I saw him _humiliate_ you on deck when he claimed you. You _belittled_ yourself before the entire crew to show that you were his. And then, the next time we saw you, he beat the shit out of you with a _belt_ —right on your bare ass—in front of _everyone_. I saw your tears _and_ the stripes on that perfect ass of yours when he was finished, as well as the look on his face. And what was the crime? It was some small infraction that you probably can’t even remember. You only submitted because you thought you deserved it since he gave you the punishment.”

I stop growling. I’m ashamed that he’s bringing this up right now, but I’m absolutely _humiliated_ to be here—shackled to a bed, unable to move, unable to protect myself, vulnerable to any attack, blood trickling down my legs. He has _no_ right to preach to me.

“I think the captain _likes_  dominating you, and you _like_  submitting to him. Or who knows? Perhaps you _enjoy_  pain? Wouldn’t _that_ be interesting! But have you ever considered being in another relationship? You don’t have to be with the captain, you know. You can be with whomever you please. And perhaps you can even be _equal_ in that relationship.”

“An equal?” I mutter. “Are you suggesting _you_ would treat me as an equal?”

“Why, of _course_ ,” his voice answers smoothly—as smooth as the hand caressing my leg, the raised welts on my thigh, to be more precise, reminding me that _he_ has the power to hurt me if he chooses to do so.

“In what way could I _possibly_ be an equal here? I’m shackled to the fucking _bed_!” I snarl viciously, not even bothering to look in his direction. “You’re not giving me a _chance_ to consent to relations with you—how can _that_ be considered equal? You know, _neither_ of you—you nor your spotted friend, are worth the _ground_  I set my feet upon.” I spit the last few words. “Do what you _like_ with my body. I’m sure I’ll recover.”

I feel a sudden hard smack on my ass, right where the welts are the most pronounced, my sit spot, and I let out a loud yelp. But I don’t care. He can hit me, abuse my body, _all_ he wants. He will _never_ be my equal. He’s _only_ in this for my body—after my scent—lusting for what he thinks I might be able to give to him. He can go ahead and take what he likes, but I’m _not_ going to give him anything of myself.

“ _Fuck_ you!” I yell at the top of my lungs. “ _Fuck you_ , and _fuck_ your spotted friend! When Rai finds you, you know he’s going to fucking _kill_ you. So you’d better have all the fun you can right now!” I know I’m making things worse for myself, but I can’t seem to stop my mouth.

Aoba is horrified—I hear him gasp—and he says, “Konoe! _Stop_ —calm down—you know you don’t _mean_ that—please—shhh..."

“Oh, I _mean_ it. And I’ll be _glad_ to see you gone. _I_ was the one who was _stupid_ enough to get him to _save_ you when you two were hanging outside his chambers, disobeying his orders. How _stupid_ was I? I said, ‘Rai, don’t hurt them—I’m sure they _mean no harm_. They _can’t help themselves_.’ But that was _my own_ naiveté, wasn’t it? I’m getting what I _deserve_ , aren’t I? This is _exactly what I get_ for standing up for you, for talking Rai off the ledge, for talking him out of _killing_ you right then and there. I _deserve_ all of this pain, don’t I?” I’m screaming now, tears of anger streaming from my eyes.

Sin is looking at me with more than a sidelong glance. Perhaps this is news to him. But he’s gone surprisingly quiet.

“Oh, yes, I _know_ ,” I continue. “Rai _told_ me he doesn’t tolerate disobedience. So he was _furious_ when he caught you guys talking to me—and not just that _one_ time, either. Both times, _I stood up for you_. I said you’d be fine if we just _let you go_ at the next stop. _I saved your fucking lives._ But I suppose _this is what I’ve earned_. So _fuck you_ , Sin, and _fuck you_ , Spots. See if any supernatural being _ever_ comes to save your life again.”

Sin looks at me carefully, trying to discern whether I’m making anything up or not. I’m speaking the truth.

Mink is getting uncomfortable, and would like things to progress. “Sin, just get on with it. What’s the delay?”

“Well, Spots _already_ hurt him pretty bad, you see,” Sin explains. “If he’s _really_ telling the truth about stepping in on our behalf, I feel bad for doing this to him now—“

“The _fuck_ does it matter? The only reason you’re here is because you _wanted_ him, isn’t it? So _now’s_ your chance! _Take_ it before it slips away. Damn, you are one dumb ass cat!” Mink is exasperated.

To my dismay, I feel that hand caressing my ass intimately again, and I know I haven’t been able to talk myself out of anything. Strangely, I hear Aoba sigh when I am touched like that. What the hell? Does he enjoy it? What the _fuck_? Hell, if it will help him, maybe I shouldn’t fight it so much.

What the hell am I saying? _I don’t want this!_ “Get your hands off me!”

“Come on, now—won’t you _sing_ for me?” Sin asks. “I’ll treat you _real_ nice, even after all that shit that just spewed out of that mouth of yours. I _just_ want to hear your song. I _have_ to hear it! I heard you sing when you were with Mink, so why won’t you sing with me?”

I hear Aoba make a surprised sound, and he says, “You sang for _Mink_?”

“I didn’t sing _for_ Mink. My body sometimes takes over for me when I can’t handle things, emotionally, physically or mentally. And that’s what happened with Mink.”

“You mean—he just _overwhelmed_ you with pleasure?” Sin asks.

“ _Fuck_ you! Look at the evidence, dimwit! My ass is covered in welts! What do you _think_ happened?” I’m pissed now. “I don’t know why I sing and sometimes I don’t, but it isn’t something I can control.” And even if I _could_ control it, the _last_ person I would want to sing for is _you_. I don’t add that last part out loud.

“So—with Captain Rai, you sing for _pleasure_ , and Mink, for _pain_? Why didn’t you sing just now? That looked pretty painful to me.” If it looked painful, why didn’t you _stop_ your little friend, then?

“I don’t know. It would have helped me, for sure. Sometimes the song just doesn’t come.”

“Ah. So maybe I have to do something a little more _extreme_?” I really dislike where this conversation is headed.

“You know, I sing for pleasure a lot more often than for pain—with pain, it’s more like for protection and healing—“ I realize my mistake too late, but I can’t take back my words.

“No, I see what I need to do. I was a sailor on The Joy for a long time, and I know Captain Rai better than you do. I know his inclinations a _lot_ better than you’d think.” I really, _really_ dislike Sin’s tone, and I start to feel fear piling up, wracking my body.

“Just— _please_ —“ My breath is coming much faster than it was. I am so totally helpless. I tug on the shackles as if that’s going to get me loose, and of course, it doesn’t. And I realize I’m stuck here. I’m at his mercy, just like I was at the other cat’s mercy.

That giant cat Mink is in the room, sitting and watching, and I’m _furious_. Is _this_ what he wanted?

I turn my head in his direction—and I can’t really see his face from where I’m lying on the bed. My ass is in his direct view—he’s got the perfect view of what goes on at _that_ end. I open my mouth.

“Are you getting what you wanted? Am I having the desired effect on Aoba? Is he doing what you _wanted_ him to do? My guess is if _I_ get hurt really bad in the next few moments, _he_ won’t be able to finish what he’s doing.”

“Ah—I suppose you’ve got a point,” Mink sighs. “Sin, why don’t you hold off just a moment.”

“What?” The gray cat is outraged. “You can’t be serious! I’ve waited all this time, and you promised—“

“Sin.” That’s all Mink has to say for him to shut his mouth.

A temporary reprieve has been granted, and I hear the other bed creaking. Though I can still feel Sin’s disgusting hand caressing my lower back and my ass. I _hate_ it. I just _hate_ the feeling, and I want him _off_ of me.

I am quiet for a while when suddenly I feel a sudden uplift in my body and I see a white flash before my eyes. I don’t actually climax, but it sure feels like I’m going to—and I even make a sound like I’m going to come— _just_ when Aoba does.

Right afterwards, I hear him mutter, “I’m so sorry,” to Mana, and he touches her face, kissing her cheek. And she seems all right. She even gives him a smile. “You were surprisingly gentle. It’s OK.”

When I made the noise, I drew Sin’s attention quite closely. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” I lie. But honestly, my dick got hard from experiencing Aoba’s climax and not coming myself. It was a very strange experience. An orgasm in my head and not in my body—it felt very strange, a total out-of-body experience.

“So, Captain Mink, if Aoba is done—may I finish with this little one?” Sin asks.

Aoba protests, “No—you _can’t_! I fulfilled my duty! I did what you asked—leave him _alone_ and leave him out of this. He’s had enough pain and torture for the day. _Please_!”

Mink stands up from his chair, and wanders over to where I’m attached to the bed. “It’s true that Aoba did what he was supposed to. So in a way, this little Siren served his purpose. However, I’ve _never_ seen a more defiant cat. Go ahead and do what you like with him, without causing any permanent damage.”

My heart sinks, fresh tears well, my stomach turns over, my teeth clench, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“Just keep him in this room. When you’re finished here, bring him to me.” Mink grabs Aoba’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Spots, take Mana back to her quarters. Be careful with her.”

When the door closes behind Mink dragging Aoba behind him, the sinking feeling in my stomach switches over to full-blown nausea.

“So, it looks like it’s just you and me,” Sin whispers in my ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends Part II of Siren of the Sea. Part III should be starting soon, with Sin and Konoe alone in the room together. Should be an interesting interaction.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Spankings, Strappings and Paddlings--Oh My! (collected works)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16168838) by [SonicoSenpai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai)




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